My husband generally works long hours and most of the chores around the house belong to me most of the year. Sometimes when he gets a bye week he thinks that doing the laundry will help me out. While I appreciate the thoughtfulness, I really prefer to maintain control of laundry duty.

When the kids were younger, I reserved laundry detail for the times when he was out of town. I used the act of sorting laundry to teach the difference between light colors and dark colors and which articles of clothing could go into the “white” pile. I tend to have two piles that can be categorized as white: the one with solid white things and the other with things that are mostly white with some color to make the garment interesting. This lesson in sorting proved very helpful as the kids got older and needed to do their own laundry. It also helped me when they were able to bring their dirty laundry to the laundry room and place it in the
correct pile.

Secondly, the kids and I would sort the clean clothes. We would have a basket for each family member’s clothes or designate a spot in the room for each person. We would have clothes folding lessons while we watched Sunday football. After the sorting and the folding, we would scurry around putting away laundry during commercials. My son’s clothes were not always put away as neatly as I would have liked, but heck they were no longer smelly or cluttering up my laundry room or den. We threw the rolled socks at the tv when we didn’t like calls by refs or plays we saw on the screen. When I wasn’t throwing socks at the tv, I threw socks at the kids. It was like dodge ball with socks. It kept the task fun and meaningful.

FInally, laundry fed my compulsive disorder that requires that the towels and shirts be folded a certain way so that they fit into the closets and drawers perfectly. My husband after all these years still can’t fold the towels right (and we won’t even discuss the fitted sheets). Ha! The process of doing laundry somehow is therapeutic for me. I have time to busy myself and quiet my spirit at the same time.

I often say, “If somebody really wants to help me, sweep and mop the floors.” I would also be overjoyed if someone would give me at least a week off from kitchen detail. I wouldn’t object to the dishwashing and cooking, but I still think I need to put them away. My type A, compulsive issue would require that I reorganize everything if they didn’t put them away properly. I guess my particular ways may be the reason they let me do most of the chores. Ha!