Hours of Minutae...

Do you ever watch your kids remove their clothes?  

They are in mortal battle with their shirts and pants, 

ripping them off in any way possible 

to get on to the next thing, 

be that the tub 

or whipping a Hot Wheels at their sister...  

I have yet found a way to get them 

to remember to place said used attire 

in the laundry room, 

even though it's a mere three feet from the bathroom...  

But the real insult occurs 

when I commence to toss the soiled duds into the washer... 

Are your kids' clothes inside out or right side out 

when heaped in the hamper?  

Without fail, my kids' clothes are inside out... 

Jack chooses to pull just one pant leg inside out, 

while Kate inverts the whole thing...  

Both kids fully upend their T-shirts

in a hasty rush to pull them over their heads... 

I can hear my mom's scolding now...

"Would you PLEASE turn your clothes right side out 

when you throw them down the laundry chute?!  

 I am not your slave!"   

Payback is harsh....

I figured it takes me about three seconds 

to turn a kid's item of clothing right side out... 

Multiply that times ten items per load, 

seven loads per week, 

52 weeks out of the year

and you've got a full six hours, 

annually, of clothes righting...  

I ain't getting those six hours back, neither...  

Then think about all the other piddly things we moms do, 

pick up errant Legos on the floor, 

wipe dried toothpaste from the sink, 

swipe crusty yellow stains from behind the toilet seat, 

remove hair from the brushes, 

replace the decorative pillows on the sofa for the billionth time, 

scrape smashed raisins from the dining room floor, 

make lunches for tomorrow, etc., 

and you have a whole couple of months of time 

that is lost in the black hole of mindless tasks... 

Now those of you who pureed your kids' food, 

get their holiday photos done in June 

and have floors the Pope could eat off of, 

probably think these chores 

are the stuff of a happy home, 

of a capable mother, 

of a grateful homemaker 

who lives for her family...  

It's in the job description, right?

I salute you!  

You are awesome and worthy of motherly accolades...

I, however, think my motherly talents lie elsewhere.... 

in bestowing love, creativity and attention on my darling children, 

unencumbered by the daily drudgery 

of picking up after them... 

Simply put, give me a house cleaner, throw in Mr. French, and I'm all good! 

Now if only my husband would reveal
his massive trust fund to me,
it would all fall into place...

Gotta run....

The laundry's piling up....