Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Evolution, Laundry Style

There's more than a few holes in many human evolutionary theories, yet I'm never compelled to jump on the band wagon and plug 'em up.  I have serious concerns about how things happened as recently as yesterday - so stand in line, evolution.

New neural pathways of psychological growth and development in the laundry department are forming every day, however. If you'd like to participate in my somewhat skewed tale of how I've evolved in my approach to laundry - for comparison sake - have at it. Make suggestions for improvement!  I'm willing to add more modifications;  a lot more, in fact.

Laundry proficiency is one of the skills that will never, ever get fully appreciated until it is fully absent. Think about it for a moment. Does anyone ever argue that it is their turn to do laundry?  Can I help you sort whites and darks, Mumza?  Nope-arooni. Any awards for laundry skills superiority? No; it's probably the one area where we don't give a trophy for participation (you're shooting yourself in the foot here, ladies, when you raise an anti-laundrite).

A teenager will wear a pair of jeans till they rot off and forensic investigators are standing over them before they will throw them in the laundry IF they are required to wash their own clothes. When black became the go-to color of teen angst-wear, I had a theory that it originated with a kitchen table talk about how it was time to learn to do your own laundry. Calculate the potential inflated wear time of black versus white, and bingo -  black it is. Go ahead and tell me it was just fashionable;  it's so cute to see a young rationalization. Just darling, really. I know for a fact that funky teenager clothes will kill a Snuggle bear.

Back to reality.

Hubzam will jump in on laundry duties, if he sees I'm bogged down too much - so kudos to him for that.  There's a bit of naggravation involved, however. He quickly turns it into a raging diatribe on what is wrong with my clothing purchases. Specifically, he questions why I would ever purchase anything that requires special washing, and by "special" he means plain old sorting that I've done bent-backed for forty years (assuming I am honest with myself about doing laundry at fifteen).  

Of course, he may have developed this view after I burnt a hole in his forehead  with my laser wife eyes when he turned my beautiful red sweater from Saks of Boston into a slightly snug dog sweater. To his credit, he also created coordinating underwear in pink from the same load, so there's that.

Is this really the place to let sleeping dogs lie?  So, for the record, if you wash my black sweater with a white sweater, an amazing fuzz exchange occurs - rendering both unwearable. "Cookies and Cream" is not a sweater color.  If I wanted my clothes to look dirty, I wouldn't put them in the laundry.

A bit o' history:  when I met my Hubzam, he had a closet full of khakis and pale blue shirts. Assuming he had a "uniform," that made sense to me. Unfortunately, he didn't have a uniform.  He just refused to purchase any clothes that had to be sorted.  Engineers...pffft!

My approach to the thankless chore of laundry has evolved over time.
  • I see no reason to sort socks.  I have a sock bucket for dark socks and one for white socks. They're your socks, family, and you tend to place odd numbers of them in the laundry basket which has caused me to go on spur of the moment explorations that usually are unsuccessful.  Where have you been that caused you to return wearing only one sock?  Hopping a half mile?
  • As all male hineys have reached a similar size and girth (i.e., too close to call), I will fold all underwear and let you menfolk sort it out.  I will not, however, add a red item to the load of your underwear and make them all pink because that just makes a person carry a petty grudge and I wouldn't do that to YOU.
  • If you have multiple pairs of shorts, but only one of those is in the laundry, you are NOT out of clothes.  Quit making me do special laundry loads for that one favorite pair of shorts. That pair of shorts had many friends at Walmart that looked exactly the same - go buy them and give them a home.  Buy seven of the same pair of shorts and wear them every day, if you like! Less sorting for me.
  • Any white item that ceases to be white will be condemned to the rag pile. Grass stains, dirt, walking outside in your socks = instant rag pile.  For me, personally, I like to keep the dirt off of the things I like to wear for as long as possible (hint, hint). 
  • Laundry requests after 9 p.m. will be met with the new Helen Keller Conflict Resolution Approach.  I will neither hear nor see your dilemma in honor of Helen.  Celebrate me.
  • If I see you using an iron correctly, you immediately become the most attractive person in the known world.  If you put it away, too, honestly I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. It seems so surreal and far fetched at the point.  Certainly, my response will involve a trophy.
Keep it clean, peeps.


  1. Orange is the new black, dear Cherdo, and your get-tough laundry policy is most certainly a detergent to grime. :)

    ( Did I really write that?)

    I can relate to this subject because I am one of those delinquent, clueless men who hate doing laundry and, when asked to help out, do a lousy job of it. Who knew you can't throw a bridal gown into the washer along with the car's dirty floor mats? :) Call me a magician because that same day I turned a tuxedo into a handkerchief. :)

    You know it's time to wash your jeans when they take a stroll down the street by themselves. :)

    A typical male, I have become so attached to my favorite articles of clothing that I have given them names. I call my favorite pair of underwear Burger King ("Home of the Whopper"). :)

    I believe there exists another dimension, a black hole that sucks in socks and never lets them escape. Ironically, only one sock in each pair is affected by its irresistible gravitational pull. To address this widespread problem I recently organized a support group called Socks Without Partners. :) I also opened an Etsy shop called My Left Sock. :)

    Thanks for the giggles, dear friend Cherdo. I'll see you next time, my partner in grime!

    1. At this point in my life, laundry is considered an intimate and I don't want to say any more that might tick it off. However, the visual image of jeans walking down the street by themselves totally cracked me up.

      Keep it clean, SDK!

  2. I like the Helen Keller line. Favorite Young Man used to ask, When are you doing the laundry? as if I ran the washer once a month. He always needed his favorite something or others. I made up new lyrics for one of Mr. Rogers' songs so when FYM asked, he had to listen to me sing. That shut him up. I refused to turn sweaty stinking filthy socks right side out. As for your missing underwear haiku, I just went out to lunch and as I crossed the street, on the corner of the sidewalk I saw a pair of striped Calvin Klein briefs. Did someone toss his designer undies out of a car window, or were they discarded for some other reason? The world will never know..


    1. I get the "are you doing laundry?" question, too. Am I? Dear Lord, have I not proved that I AM? Look in your drawers, people.

  3. I never considered this element in the rise of Goth culture. I think you're on to something!


Thanks for your personal yada, yada, yada,
Love, Cherdo