Melinda vs. Laundry

Remember a few posts ago (Thanksgiving-ish) when I said that I was really grateful for my camera because it captured those special moments and froze them in time? Proof that they did happen? Well, I have one of those pictures for you. This sight was so rare that I absolutely HAD to capture it "on film." This is definitely one of those once in a lifetime shots, or at least once every leap year. Are you ready? Please scroll down and imagine an angelic choir singing in stereo behind you.

Ta Dah!!! Yes. It's my laundry room! Isn't it beautiful? Look how nice and CLEAN it is! And it's even vacuumed! So why is this shot so beautiful, you ask? Because it means that my laundry is officially CAUGHT UP!!!! Holy cow! I can barely say it without feeling giddy. I think I'm going to say it again just for dramatic effect: CAUGHT UP!! I have to say it quickly because I know that sentence is an oxymoron in and of itself. There really isn't such thing as laundry being caught up, because by the time I go to bed, it won't be true anymore. But for now, right now, it is.

There are a couple of reasons that I am posting this picture. One of them is to clear up and rectify one of the most embarrassing moments in my recent life. It has to do with one of my dear friends named Susan. Those of you who know Susan know that she is...hmmm...what's the word? Obsessive compulsively clean? And since Susan is obsessive compulsively clean, so is her house. HER idea of clean and MY idea of clean are totally different. Her idea of clean is scrubbed, dusted, vacuumed, and totally in order. (I think the indoor plants that Dan takes such good care of are even dusted on a regular basis.) My idea of clean is shoving the toys where I can't see them and spreading around any small pieces of trash on the carpet with my foot, the way I used to do with vegetables on my plate when I was a kid to make it look like there wasn't as much, thus making my plate appear cleaner. And don't even get me started on dusting... (Oh, and the plant that Dan gave me a while ago...it died last week.)

One day, a few years ago, Susan called me to see if I had any extra boxes since she was moving and was in need of them. I knew I had some, so I told her to come over and grab whatever she needed. Being the prompt person Susan is, she was there in a few minutes and I took her down to the cold storage where all of our extra boxes were. I must not have been thinking at that moment, or simply forgot who I was with, because as I opened the door to my laundry room, there is was. My weakness. My nemesis. My laundry room. Uncensored and exposed. Only it didn't look at all like it does in this lovely (and current) picture I post today. There was laundry everywhere! There were piles and piles all over the floor. And I mean, ALL over the floor. It had multiplied like rabbits and was out of control. You couldn't even seen the carpet. Yes, it was that bad.

It was too late. She had seen it, and I was mortified. I felt completely naked and exposed. And here was the kicker... there really was no way to get to the cold storage door except to go through the mountains of clothing. If you tried to kick it out of the way (believe me, I tired) there was only more underneath. So I waded through it, and guess what...dear, sweet Susan followed me in in her sexy, high heeled, lawyer boots and all. Embarrassed. Sickened. Mortified. Lucky for me, Susan is also as non-judgemental as she is obsessively clean.

There was also that time that Mike and Jenny came to visit a few months ago, and my laundry room was looking very much like it did when Susan waded through it. I knew it looked that way. I also knew that they would inevitably wander upon it on their own while staying in our home, so I decided to just get the agony over with. I took Jenny by the arm, marched her right in there with me and said something like, "Here it is. I'm sorry. Thank you for still being my friend. Good luck. The end." Jen, being the person that she is, simply shrugged it off and started talking about something else. (Did I mention that I was grateful for non-judgemental friends?) I didn't even bother taking Mike #2 in there. I knew that he, being the person he is, would tease me incessantly about it for the next eternity and them some. I simply did not want to supply him with the fodder, even though I'm sure he might have peeked anyway.

So for all of you who have seen my laundry room in its regular state (Susan, Jen, BJ [yet another embarrassing story there...], Mom, Liseanne, my Mike, my kids, and Mike #2, you darn peeker!), or for any of you whose laundry room looks like mine usually does and thinks there is no hope, this picture is for you. Enjoy it. Memorize it. Because by the time you read this blog, the mountains of clothing will have inevitably begun to grow again.

"Flops are part of life's menu, and I'm never a girl to miss out on a course."
~Rosalind Russell