Sometimes I do laundry, like a responsible adult. I wash it, dry it, fold it, and put it away all in the same day. Sometimes I even do multiple loads on the same day.
Sometimes, I wash a load of laundry, move the load over to the dryer, and then put on “The Notebook” and forget about the clothes in the dryer until Monday morning comes around and we are all naked.
Sometimes, I wash a load of laundry, move the load over to the dryer, and then even remember to bring the load from the dryer upstairs to my bedroom. Where I throw it all over my bed and make my family forage for clean socks and t-shirts like animals. Naked animals.
Sometimes, I put laundry in the washing machine and then sit down with a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips while I wait for the wash to finish. And then I fall asleep or get distracted by digging chocolate out from beneath my fingernails and I accidentally leave the wet laundry in the washing machine for a day. Or overnight. Or several days. Or a week, but that only happened once.
Okay, fine. More than once I’ve forgotten about it for a week.