14th Day of Empty Nesting...Laundry

I don't mind doing laundry.  At least not the washing part.  I have sorters in the laundry hall room where the clothes patiently wait until they have enough company to make a whole load.  I have a snazzy, tech-y, golly-gee-whiz, high-efficiency, electronic marvel of a front-loader with a control panel that would give the space-shuttle a run for its money and a not-so-fancy drier, because given the choice I opt for the low-tech, old-fashioned clothesline in the back yard.  There's nothing quite like stepping out of the shower into an honest towel smelling of fresh air.  Or going to bed at night on a sunshine-scented pillow.

But folding!  And putting away!  EEK!  For years I had a resident laundry-folder, but 14 years ago she took a one-way ticket to her own laundry heaven, and ever since...it's on me.  I don't even mind folding soooo much.  But putting away...!  There's nothing quite like it.  Not in a good way.

Invariably, with disturbing regularity, comes the day when the Man is getting dressed and he can't find his socks.  Or his underwear.  Or his pj's, pants, shirt, you-name-it.  Then I have to go dig it out of the basket where it has taken root.  This isn't always so much fun, especially when the day in question is a work day at 5 o'clock in the morning.  You haven't really lived until you try to find a pair of matching socks in the dark with your eyes halfway closed and your brain half asleep.

Still, things can always be worse, and so far, he's been lucky enough that his clothes are at least cleanly in the basket.  He has never yet had to turn something inside out and wear it the 2nd time.

Laundry, once a dreaded 2-3x-a-day chore, now takes the leisurely pace of 2-3x a week.  In the pre-Empty-Nested world, laundry was frantic and relentless.  But now ... it isn't anything that can't be put off another week day.