Since becoming a newlywed over a month ago and subsequently moving into McNest, I’ve found myself discovering my inner housewife. Let’s just say I’m no June Cleaver (though I bet wearing some of those retro dresses would help)…but I have to say I am making great strides. I may only cook adequately at best (that’s a whole other blog) and my housekeeping skills are probably somewhere around subpar, but I do look really cute in an apron and I can bake great cupcakes.
My main problem is that there’s little to nothing that can rid me of any ounce of motivation I may possess as quickly as the thought of doing housework. I see the daily to-do list growing around me (the rug needs to be vacuumed, floors swept, floors mopped, toilet (ew) cleaned, dishes washed….yet I always suddenly find it of utmost importance and urgency that I do something else…such as anything other than housework. A nap, a sodoku puzzle, painting my nails, or watching episodes of the Cosby Show or John & Kate + 8 that my husband has lovingly recorded for me on that little miracle we call DVR. I bet if June Cleaver had Dish Satellite and DVR in the 50’s her kitchen wouldn’t have been clean either and I’m willing to wager that she would have had a few piles of laundry that hadn’t been washed too!I’ve yet to find the ironing board to be a thing of beauty, but I do have to say I haven’t really hated doing anything around the house other than hand washing a few dishes every now and then that apparently aren’t dishwasher safe (which by the way – no company should be allowed to produce and market anything that isn’t dishwasher safe). And my hands…my poor hands just aren’t used to all of the cleaning product they have been subject to. But I digress…
Then there’s the laundry. Since I didn’t want to head down to the creek with a washboard, I’ve also done a few (or more than a few) loads of laundry at McNest as well. Who knew two people went thru so many towels and shirts in a week’s time.I did my own laundry when I lived at 260 (my parents house). I figured that when Eddie and I moved in together – my laundry would double (and I was ok with that). I’m an accountant so I can totally do simple math – one plus one equals two.
However I was completely unaware that once married there is a very complicated exponential equation and some sort of scientific phenomenon (thoughts Lisa?) that occur when we combine our tshirts and towels into the hamper. My laundry plus Eddie’s laundry does not equal double laundry – instead it equals quadruple laundry.
Our towels are huge so they are one load by themselves. Then there are jeans and darks…whites…then of course I have my own special “cold wash” wardrobe as well. Lucky for me Eddie actually does help fold all the clothes when they are done. It helps when I drag the laundry basket into the den and he can fold and watch tv at the same time. You’ll be happy to know (people at Sharp) that after one unfortunate incident
I have yet to find any of Eddie’s clothes on the floor in the laundry room. I give him an A+ for remembering that dirty clothes belong in the hamper! Good job babe :)I’m starting to wonder if instead of my perfume I smell like Downy fabric softener since I’m in the laundry room so much. Before long I’ll probly be a strand of pearls away from becoming Mrs. Cleaver herself! Which by the way Mr. Hanson - I would be down with a set of my own pearls! Ha Ha!
