Thursday, November 13, 2008

Farewell, dignity! It's been a fun ride!

TMI alert. I'm just saying.

I think I've finally hit bottom. Literally. And let's just say that where I ended up, I never care to see again. Let me explain.

I hate folding laundry. Actually, HATE is not quite strong enough of a word. How about detest, despise, revile, abhor, loathe -- it is absolutely my least favorite housekeeping chore. Folding big person laundry isn't so bad, because one load of CPod's laundry consists of two pair of jeans, a couple of t-shirts, and a bunch of dark socks, since he is ginormously tall. But the little kid laundry around here drives me bonkers. Oh, the little sockies! I swear, they multiply in the drier and not by cloning, since somehow, they still never match. Ever.

Last night, after procrastinating as long as possible, I sat down on the couch to watch Life (a trippy experience in and of itself . . . the main dude really resembles my husband a lot) and tackle a mountain of under-4 laundry about two weeks tall. (MommyJ thinks my children's wardrobes are much too extensive. If they were any smaller, I would have to do laundry with much greater frequency. See, MommyJ? There is method to my madness!)

So I'm folding along, grateful to have brain candy on TV so I don't have to think about what I'm doing. I am surrounded by little piles of footie pajamas, blue jeans, and t-shirts, and the ever important tiny undies. I am about half-way through the embarrassingly large mound of clothing when I pick up a pair of Lightning McQueen tightie whities and notice . . . a skid mark. And not like, oh, hey, a little brown stain left over after washing, maybe we should have some wiping technique remediation, skid mark. More like still dirty, and what are these doing in here with all of my clean, fresh, detergent-smelling clothes that I am in the midst of folding?!?!?

Take a deep breath. Because that's what I did . . . with every pair of tiny briefs. Yes, you heard me. I have literally hit bottom . . . about 20 times. About halfway through, I noticed CPod laughing quietly from his chair. I was so focused on sniffing out the dirty ones that I didn't even catch a glimpse of Dignity as she left my presence forever. She was long gone, probably hitched a ride with Destinee's Dignity on the way out of town after she sopped up spilled soup with her finger, and hot on the trail of MommyJ's Dignity who was, I'm sure, scarce by the time she ate all the Almond Joys from her kids' Halloween candy.

Sigh. I thought I might miss it, but I don't. A lack of dignity is somewhat liberating. Just think -- if I had even a shred of dignity left, this would be the post-that-might-have-been and your lives would be missing a certain je ne sais quoi. So glad I could be of service.


  1. Do you suppose she leaves or she die? Because if she just leave there might be a chance on getting her back, but if she dies then there is no hope.

    Welcome to the dignityless club :)

  2. ah yes, the post-that-might-have-been, you have no idea how much you inspire others just by your admittance to not enjoying every household task. I hold on the your words. Thanks for writing them. Check out my blog if you have time between tasks.

  3. One time my husband saw my daughter sniffing her panties. In disgust, he asked her why she was doing that. She then replied, "I'm seeing if they're dirty or not. That's how mommy does it." My dignity?? Gone.

  4. Oh man, how I can relate to this post!

  5. I totally want to know what dirty underwear was doing in your clean laundry... did you find more than one pair? Was all your sniffing in vain?

    I think my dignity actually left when Sam told me I smelled like rotton eggs... and he was right.

  6. I am laughing out loud right now! Life without dignity is still a life worth living! And I hope the rest of your sniffing was in vain. Cause that is just plain gross!

  7. By the way, I like your new blog look! Very nice!

  8. I'm with everyone else. I need more info. Was that the only pair? Did you ever question the offenders to find out exactly how they got there?

  9. Okay, since you're all so curious, here's what I ended up finding: two matching dirty shirts, two pairs of matching dirty pants, and two pairs of dirty pajamas, and four pairs of dirty underwear. I suspect CPod, in an effort to help out, threw dirty clothes in the wrong basket in the laundry room. It had to be him, because if it was my children, I just might have a heart attack and die right now because putting clothes in any basket that doesn't have some elaborate pretend scenario surrounding it would be a miracle akin to the loaves and the fishes. And CPod had a laundry inservice with me night before last, so this shouldn't happen again. Hopefully. Oh, let's be honest. It will totally happen again, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to change that!

  10. Oooooohhhhgh. So sorry. I might have just thrown the whole pile back in the washer. Kudos to you for being less wasteful that I would have been!

  11. InkMom,

    I am so glad to have found your blog. IT is amazing what opening a facebook account can do for a person:) I love your recount of loosing all dignity. And yes...I agree. It is very liberating. Such is the life of a mom.



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