Laundry

I'm really trying to have a good attitude about laundry. I know I've got it easy when you think about the fact that I have a working washer and dryer; however, laundry is the bane of family life. Give me sibling rivalry and spilt milk; I will overcome and speak with wisdom and patience (sometimes) but laundry, oh laundry, just is.

So I've decided to write a song. OK, not fully through-composed, but I've changed the words to "This is the Song that never Ends". Because seriously, it will never end. The sooner I accept that I'm chosen to do my own laundry until the day I die, the happier I'll be, right? Or maybe laundry could be my reason to feign early dementia and secure my room at the assisted living center...

Anyway, enough dreaming. Here's my song.

It's the laundry that never ends
I'm always lugging it, then I bend
To put it into the washer, then over to the dryer,
Then up the stairs, to fold, and hang it up higher

It's the laundry that never ends
What goes in it makes me wretch
Dirt and grass and pasta, and pee and poo galore
I never ever know what the clothes have in store

'Cause it's the laundry that never ends
I don't even want to talk about the linens
Top bunk sheets to make, plus the mattress pads
Then the one who like to take her pillow out to the quad

It's the laundry that never ends...