This is clean laundry on my laundry room floor. Can’t even be bothered to stay in the friggin baskets.
 
I’m ashamed to tell you how long these clothes have been on the floor.
 
(3 weeks)
 
Maybe a few days, I’m not really sure.
 
(3 weeks)
 
Every day, I rummage through this stupid pile for something my kids and I can wear because our closets are empty. I have never, not once, actually found what I’m looking for in these piles, so I typically settle for the underwear with the tight band. It gives me a muffin top that hurts my feelings and there’s nothing I can do because the underwear I do like with the forgiving band has been lost forever in the clean laundry black hole of doom.
 
When we go to church, my girls are wearing stained Carter play shorts and t-shirts from last year that now stop at their navels because I rummaged for 30 full minutes and the sundresses have straight up vanished. I’m done looking, y’all can wear this crap with the popsicle stains on it and get on with it. The devil is a lie.
 
I don’t know what it is with me and laundry. It doesn’t matter how successful I am in my career, my marriage, my ministry or my parenting. It doesn’t matter how clean and fresh the rest of my home is or the fact I successfully got into a bra by noon. Laundry is always there, in my washer, with mildew slowly settling in. Clothes are in the dryer until my husband runs out of work scrubs and yells “What I’m supposed to do with these clothes in the dryer?!” Clean clothes are spilling out of baskets. Dirty dish rags are now somehow intermingling with the clean pile, giving me trust issues. 
 
My laundry can go straight to hell. I can’t. I won’t. Clearly, I didn’t.
 
What is my deal? It’s not that hard! It’s not like I gotta head towards the river with a frickin’ washboard. Why can’t I get my crap together?
 
Who the hell knows.
 
But I do know this – I work hard to take care of my family. I honor my commitment as a mother, a wife and I writer. I take immense joy serving and loving my family and others.
 
But I draw a line at this damn heaping pile of clean, meadow scented garbage. 
 


And I have a huge mound on the floor for 2 straight days (3 weeks) to prove it.