A Day In The Life

I can be a tad, shall we say, uncoordinated at times. Some people might call me a klutz. My totem animal is the moose: a gangly, awkward creature that looks like it should collapse at any time.

So let me set the stage. Today, I gather the laundry together, divide it into loads, and start the weekend-long process of ensuring wife and I will have clean clothes next week.

The laundry equipment is in the garage, so it's a bit of a hike from the opposite end of the house (our bedroom).

It's also kind of dark and smells like, well, a garage.

Now wife likes dryer sheets in stuff that goes through the dryer. I'm in the "frankly my dear, I don't give a damn" category: my clothes seem pretty much the same with or without the dryer sheets, and I usually just end up picking one out of my pocket in the middle of the day.

But I indulge her.

This morning, I put a dryer sheet into the load I have just moved to the dryer, and leave on my sojourn across the house for the next load (we only have one basket).

I return, put the load in the washer, pour in the detergent, and I'm on my way.

I come back, wife in tow, and unload the dryer. There's the used sheet. I put it in the washer. Clothes in dryer go in basket, clothes in washer go in dryer.

As I'm putting the clothes in the dryer, I pick a dryer sheet out of one of them.

Me (internal dialogue): That's funny, I must have dropped one in by accident.

I pick several more sheets out of the washer.

Wife: Wow, that's a lot of dryer sheets.

Me: Uh huh.

Wife: Did you drop the box in the washer?

Me: That would be stupid. (Oh, why do I make it so easy).

Wife looks around in the laundry area.

Wife: I don't see the box of dryer sheets here.

By this point, I've picked at least twenty sheets out of the washer.

Wife: I think you dropped them in the washer.

Me: Uh huh.

Wife: Hahahahahaha.

Me: Can I please have what's left of my dignity?

In the end, there were probably fifty sheets and one very clean and fresh-smelling load of laundry.