When your mother calls you in from playing outside and tells you to change out of your play clothes, you strip down in your bedroom, step out of your crazy-muddy pants, and leave them lying however they land.
After this, you can forget about them. Because, you see, this is when the laundry fairies flutter in to do their job. They seek out the muddy clothes, untangle them from themselves, and run them through the washer (alone, of course, so as not to soil other people’s not quite so dirty clothing). The fairies then dry them, fold them lovingly, return them to the bedroom closet, and seek out the next load of offensive, forgotten clothing.
If you are a boy, this is all very satisfactory. The fairies, however, are organizing. There are rumors of a work stoppage.