Saturday was a day of errands (we hadn't really done an official-plan-the-menu-and-make-a-list grocery shopping trip probably since before the wedding) and laundry.
Lots. Of. Laundry.
Late in the afternoon, I invited everyone to a laundry folding party on our bed. I usually fold the laundry myself because 1) I like doing it and 2) I am particular about how it is done.
But desperate times.
Mark folded a beach towel and it looked like this.
"Mark," I said.
"You may not like it," he said, "but this is what peak performance looks like."
"Fine," I said. Who was I to argue with peak performance?
(Then I refolded it. Because we aren't barbarians.)
1 comment:
We are barbarians. We do "speed laundry," which looks like sorting clothes into the right pile to go to the right person's room. No folding involved. Who has time for that?
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