DAILY SNACK
I woke up yesterday morning with laundry rage.
It had been building for a while.
I’d only done the occasional load,
And then had to go down and rummage through the dryer every morning.
Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.
This morning, though, I could not find any underwear,
Clean or dirty!
And a certain someone who shall remain nameless wet the bed for the first time in months and months.
Thus began the rage.
How the hell could my husband insist on sleeping in,
When there was so much laundry to do.
I needed these kids out of here because it was going to be me versus the piles of clothes,
And it wasn’t going to be pretty.
A couple hours into my mission,
I pulled out the lint trap to clean it,
And a toy drumstick kind of thing,
That was lying on the dryer,
Somehow rolled toward the hole where the lint trap goes,
And was exactly the right size to fall right in.
Did you know that there is no bottom to that hole?
The toy is deep, deep within the bowels of my dryer never to be retrieved.
I’m not sure what this means for the future of my dryer,
But I still had twenty-zillion loads of laundry to do.
So maybe we’ll find out.