Perpetual Laundering

We have a thing at our house. This thing grows and grows until it can grow no more. Have you seen The Blob? Excellent movie. I think I saw it on TV edited and I was so happy because it was so terrifying. So why not try to re-create it? But my Blob is out of laundry. It grows in every room and finally ends up in one mass in my room. And it wiggles and changes positions (see: when I'm trying to find socks early in the morning) and it infects the personages in the household (see: Rylee who wears ten outfits at once because she can't decide between all the beautiful outfits she finds). And it just keeps growing until finally there are literally no clothes left for anyone to wear. That's when I sit Jared down and I have "the talk." It starts like this..."Do you remember when we used to spend time together alone? It's like I never see you any more. You're always hiding behind a big wall. I need to see you more!!!" And he says, "Fine, let's fold the laundry and then we can both fit on the bed tonight." And we spend the entire night watching a chick flick (those are the only movies that require 1/8th of your brain to understand and care about) and folding laundry. And then finally, oh what sweet rapture, I'm able to cross off Fold Laundry on my list. And you know when I cross that one off, I'll finally be able to throw the list away, because it's been sitting there waiting for me to cross it off for weeks. And then I start my new list and that's the first thing on it. So it's my perpetual laundering experience for the person who never stops laundering.

And then there's the "securing your assets" people. Not necessarily against a fledgling economy or criminals, but against their children. My favorite was when I walked into a friend's house and looked around. Every drawer had screws in it. Even the VHS/DVD player had a board screwed into the entertainment center over it so that the kids couldn't access it. Her response, "They were breaking everything. And we hit our breaking point. My husband went around the entire house with his screw driver and nailed down anything that moves." She had this crazed look in her eye, so I avoided asking the question, "How are you going to watch a movie then?" But I got this eerie feeling like I was in a mental institution so I politely excused myself and got the heck out of there. Not to mention the kids were monkeys. Intelligent monkies, though. But it's like the brains weren't attached to their bodies. Their synapses must have been fried