Laundry Hunt Olympics
Could I go pro? I mean, maybe. You have to put the practice in, you understand? Practice makes perfect and all that.
Ok we don't say that anymore. Growth mindset, check. Practice makes progress? Practice makes permanent?
I like to warm up with a quick round of work emails. Nothing gets the heart pumping like slogging through a morass of meeting invites and inquiries where the sender buries his question like the single baby sock cohabitating with a rogue Goldfish in the back crease of my couch. They know their love is verboten and ill-fated, and yet they're trying to make it work. At least until the cracker molds. Which is what, like three years away?
I close my inbox with a loud HA, making a chopping hand motion. Then I power pose.
Properly warmed up, I start my hunt. I follow the two loop pattern. Pace the perimeter of the living room, hands at sides, fingers wriggling, dropping into a moving lunge to pluck the bibs and spit-up rags from assorted furniture.
Flat hands skimming countertops, snatching crusty facecloths and socks. Hand towel quick grabs, you gotta fling your hand out like you're snatching a fish out of a river. Slap those towels over your shoulder.
Charge down hallway, first stop kids' room. One hand grab of mesh laundry hamper, head on a swivel, old pajamas grabbed off the rocker, socks from the window sill.
Second bedroom, mine, laundry hamper discarded socks crumpled sleep sacks go go go!
My washer is in the hallway so I dump the goods before going for loop two, invariably finding a bib and sock under the kitchen table and a sock pair crushed inside a set of toddler sneakers.
Speed walk towards the washer (my elementary school had a woman show up and try to teach us to speed walk, did someone actually pay this woman to teach 10 year olds how to pump their arms to walk faster, or was she just an extremely bored PTA member? We'll never know, but the strong foundation she built is coming in handy now).
I favor the underhanded pitch for my laundry loading, since my washer opens in the front. Keep up the pace, left hand grabbing, right hand pitching. Some folks like the double pitch, left grab and pitch, right grab and pitch, but I'm a specialist.
Start that sucker, and SPRINT back to the kitchen for the gross dish cloth that's cleaned one too many crusty plastic plates to make it back before your washer locks.
Now you're back in your chair, heart pounding, ready to get back to work.
Fuck. Another sock.