In my family, my mother is the chief laundry officer. She takes the movement of clothing from clean to dirty to clean and folded once more very seriously. Tee-shirts get folded so that they stack precisely and fit most efficiently in the drawers. Pants are vigorously shaken before being smoothed and stacked. Even underwear is folded neatly and aligned into a perfect pile. And, of course, it is all folded within moments of being removed from the dryer.
I have always been my mom’s acolyte in laundry maintenance. Growing up, I was the only one in the family she trusted to fold her clothes, as neither my dad or sister were particularly devoted to living a wrinkle-free life. However, I must confess that in recent years, my adherence to the “Leana method” has slipped. Often, I’ll do a load of laundry, pile it on the couch and then leave it to sit for a day or two before it gets folded*. I’ll dip into the pile each morning as I get dressed, giving the clothes a shake before deeming them “good enough” and slipping them on.
That pile you see above is the accumulation of several loads of laundry. After taking the picture, I did dig in and fold the whole thing (although it’s still on the couch, just in neater stacks). Sadly, the basket in the bedroom is already beginning to fill up once more. The cycle just never ends (and from what I hear, it just gets worse when you reproduce).
*You might be wondering why Scott doesn’t tackle the laundry pile. Well, I have inherited my mom’s laundry affliction. I just don’t love it when other people fold my clothes (space optimization and all). So while he does occasionally try to help, neither of us end up enjoying the experience.