I am a control freak. There. I said it. As long as you understand this one little fact about me, we'll be fine. I am especially a control freak about my laundry, so please, don't touch it.
Take my husband, Andy. I know he means well. I know he just wants to help, but please don't touch MY laundry. Yes, I am that territorial about it. He doesn't sort. Granted, most of our clothes have been washed so many times, that the dye doesn't leak, but you never know. Also, he doesn't fold things quite right. Like shirts. I worked in the boutique of our college bookstore. I was taught how to fold shirts VERY neatly. You know, like at the Gap-how they fold them with a clipboard? I don't need a clipboard. Andy, on the other hand, when he folds shirts they are like twice the width of the clipboard.
Another example? I like to see all of my neatly folded piles when I am done. I like to see the fruits of my labors. Andy? He puts away each load as he folds it. I tell him he is doing a lot more work than he has to...Not to mention, again, I LIKE TO SEE ALL OF THE NEAT PILES I HAVE MADE! So, please, don't put them away until I am done.
That brings us to this morning. My sister-in-law and her two kids are staying with us this week. I am watching my niece and nephew while she takes an art class. I got up early so that I would have some time to myself. I decided to get a jump on the laundry. It is just after 9, and I have my fourth and final load in. So, this morning, when I pulled out the load, she offered to help. No, really, I can do it. In fairness, she has no idea how I am about MY laundry. So, she folds...in no way like I do...I sat at the table this morning for an hour with her chatting before she left thinking that I just wanted to re-fold it. (It wasn't put away yet, remember, I like seeing the piles of clothes when I am done.) I started offering out these clothes to my kids to wear so the urge might pass. It didn't. As soon as she left, I refolded the offending items. Whew, I am glad I got that off my chest...