I loooooove Fall. I reallly love Fall in Nebraska. In fact, when I moved to Texas, I think I was actually depressed about missing Fall. It’s just fantastic. The smells. The colors. The crisp air. I could wax poetic all day long about the season that is home to Husker football and trees that appear as though they’ve caught fire. But I won’t today. No. Today, I am talking about the major pitfall of Autumn. And that, my friends, is laundry.
Laundry?
Yep. Laundry. Because this beautiful fall weather… well… it necessitates about 67 costume changes for my three little dudes. Leave it to parenting to completely change my perspective on yet another thing.
On any given Fall day, the number of clothing items that come out of my children’s drawers, onto their person, and then, into the laundry pile, takes more than two hands to count.
If it’s chilly in the morning, sunny in the afternoon, and then chilly as the sun goes down {which is pretty much fall in Nebraska} then the laundry pile includes but is not limited to…
two pairs of pajama pants {the two oldest are now too cool for shirts}. two short-sleeved shirts for school. two hoodies. two pairs of pants that they begrudge having to wear. two pairs of shorts that get worn for two hours after school but look as though they’ve been worn to a battle between chalk and markers. two to four pairs of socks… this number is dependent upon where they took their socks off at any given moment. two sweatshirts because they can’t find their hoodies after school…which are always on the hooks where they hung them. one pair of underwear…because one refuses to poop on the potty and one has a long time before that is even a thought. one pair of footie jams. one pair of baby pants. one or two or three onesies… number dependent upon spit-up. perhaps a hoodie. and a partridge in a pear tree.
That’s one day. And there are 7 of those in a week {last I checked anyway}.
This does not even begin to include the big people clothing. And there are two of those here, too.
All told, I would gander to say we run about 8-10 loads of laundry a week in the fall. During this time of year, my washer and dryer are worked harder than a one-legged man in a booty kicking contest. And that’s just with having little loves. I can’t imagine what jr high and high school will bring. I mean, I’m not even washing practice jerseys, sweaty socks, gross boy parts holders, and such. So Fall, you’re lucky I love you. And that you are basically dynamite in every other single way. And I suppose you are better than Winter. It’s not as though I am currently keeping tabs on hats, mittens, gloves, ear muffs, coats, and boots. So for that, I toast to you, Fall… all this sud’s for you.
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