Take a Load Off...

The Laundry Conundrum

Remember that story you heard in 9th grade biology class--about how, in 1864,  Louis Pasteur disproved the theory of "spontaneous generation"?   He obviously never visited my 2009 laundry room.

Our laundry multiplies.  It doesn't spawn mice, the way the ancients used to think. It spawns more laundry.  Piles and piles of it.  Not just repeatedly, but continuously.  

Cadres 

of cotton, loads of linen, wads of wool...name it, and I have it in bulk.  I try setting up a schedule to knock it out in one big chunk, but nothing works.   Invariably someone will need to "iron" some jeans (translation:  empty the dryer and toss in the slacks for a quick spin) and the semi-dry laundry will sit on the folding table, waiting for the inevitable re-wash.  I could vacation in Venice on the money I've wasted on laundry soap, cleaning clothes that I washed just the day before!

The random red lipstick, lost in the washer, made lovely pink stains on all the guys' briefs, causing some confused stares in the gym locker room.  The yellow dog hair never quite comes out of the black shirts, and the well-water smell lingers in the towels long after they're folded in the closet.

But nothing beats the wet Pampers, accidentally tossed in the washer with the baby's pajamas.

You can't imagine how much water those suckers can hold.  Until they pop.  The absorbent filler dots look like tiny transparent jello worms, wriggling through the worsted.  It takes three more wash cycles to get all the gel blobs out of the clothes.   And we had diaper disasters twice last week!!!

I'm writing the Nobel folks, in hopes of snagging a science prize this year.  Pasteur, puh-leeze!!

The laundry has its own genealogy in my house, with bibs begetting blankets, begetting boxers.

Maybe I can coax the detergent to s

pontaneously regenerate-- I'll wear my Nobel science medal on my gondola ride!!