Back when I was blogging regularly, whenever my husband Dan found me working on a piece of writing, he used to tease, “Let me guess … something about laundry?”
So maybe I wrote about laundry a little bit.
I bet you’re not judging me. After all, the laundry we shall always have with us. Every woman knows this truth, though every one of us does her best to avoid it.
(This is baby Daniel! Daniel! Who is now 9 years old. I need a minute …)
For better or for worse, at least for me, the laundry is a pretty good barometer for how the rest of my life is going. If laundry is mostly caught up and clean clothes are where they should be, i.e., NOT in piles on chairs in my bedroom, then you can safely guess that I am feeling pretty good and top of things. If the laundry is all manner of “not caught up” and “not where it should be,” then you can safely offer to bring me a glass of wine, because the rest of my life is quite surely a stinky, smelly, wrinkly, neglected mess …