OK, I realize this isn’t news. I live with four women. One of them is my wife. Three are my daughters. I am not an Arab prince. I am middle class and Methodist. I am me.
To paraphrase Thomas Jefferson, sometimes in the course of human events, we all end up doing each other’s laundry. I know our clothes dirty and clean. While my wife was out of town with the girls recently, the girls amassed a fair amount of dirty laundry. It’s taken a few days to get caught up. This happens to everyone when then get back from a trip or vacation. Multiple loads are placed multiple times into a single washer. Such is family life in middle class America.
Earlier this morning, when leaving the house, I noticed small piles beginning to form. All of our underwear and clothing were intermingled together in two or three separate stacks as they had come from the dryer. From their perch on the couch cushions, they waited to be folded after breakfast. Another sat glaringly in the large corner chair.
As I surveyed each clean load, I noticed several commonalities between the piles: T- shirts, bath towels, and bras. I don’t know what it was about the bras that jumped out at me but I noticed: we had a lot of bras. Everyone, but me, in my house, wears a bra. Everyone, but me, in my house, owns more than one bra. I know this intellectually. But this message, staring me in the eyes, like an unkempt underwear section at Target was not what I wanted to see. Our girls are bra wearing women. This means:
• They will start attracting men who like bra wearing women
• They will want to talk to such men
• They will want to date men
• They will want to buy more bras
• They will need to by fewer pencil sharpeners
• I will need to fund dates and bra purchases
Laundry can change your life; whether it is clean or dirty, whether you wear it or not, or if you like doing it or not. When you finally understand what your dirty clothes are telling you; it’s probably 90 degrees, mid-way through August, and far too late to do anything at all.