We’ve had nothing but food, food, food for three days. Junk food. Ice cream, cookies, crackers, hubby’s stuff on the fridge, pop. So Enough about my weight.
On top of that, I’m left wondering what the heck is it with towels? I guess normal people do use a lot of towels. Normal people probably have a finished basement without mold on the walls. They probably have a nice laundry room with a working washer and dryer. They probably have a pile of freshly laundered guest towels complete with welcome note.
But, hey, me? I’ve never claimed normal as my main adjective.
I’m married to someone who could care less about a finished basement, a laundry room or functional laundry appliances. [By the way, I’ve often wondered which phrase really is the more appropriate of the two: He ‘couldn’t care less,’ or’ he could care less.’]
So, when, in a matter of days, my entire towel closet is depleted and I find piles of wet towels in the hall, on the bathroom and bedroom floor and down the stairs, I’m more than a little concerned. I can use a towel for almost a week. Well, I’m going to say I can use a towel for five days straight and then I throw it in the wash. Hubby uses a new towel every single day. But , still, that’s only slightly more than seven towels a week. One batch! This week I have washed four batches of towels. And I just started another. I’ve got three laundry baskets of towels that need folded and one white batch left to wash.
There are piles, [PILES!] of things all over the house. How do people keep their homes clean or orderly with company? There are approximately eighteen pairs of shoes on the front rug. There are dishes in the dishwasher, on the cabinet and in the sink. There are another fifteen pair at the back door. There are toys and books and bedding and groceries all of the place.
But, at the same time, there are people I adore, here, too. I’ve had time to spend with Easton. I’ve had some quality time with Mikelle. We’ve played Rook, gone to the high school and played all sorts of wild games. Mikelle did her physical therapy there. Easton and I played catch with several balls. Logan, Scott and Caleb played kick ball, football, and bad-mittin. We went to the Gorge and jumped off the cliffs. We found a little cove-like place to swim and sun. We had a picnic. We swam across the bay. We hiked. We’ve spent loads of time with the horses, on the tramp, the swing, hammock and looking for the moon. We’ve gone to church and Rendezvous.
So, I guess, seriously, a few extra batches of towels is nothing in the whole realm of things.