Let's be honest. We all have that one chore that we hate more than anything else in the world and we procrastinate and procrastinate; until, one day, it is staring us in the face and we can no longer ignore it. My chore of death is laundry.
I don't have mounds of dirty clothes though. It is really the clean piles that tend to build up and explode like Mt. Saint Helens. (This is much less smelly than dirty socks.)
I tip toe around my own erupting mountain chain that develops in my family room, shove it in a bin and put it in the corner. Out of sight, out of mind, right? It sits there mocking me when I have much more important things to worry about like who Andy, the bachelorette, is going to kick off in the brand new episode. I could not focus on her life if I was simultaneously folding towels, right? (This is what I tell myself to feel better.)
In addition to my Bachelorette obsession/procrastination techniques, there are a few other odd things that I have mastered while avoiding the laundry:
1.) Watching the show True Tori. Yes, it is about Tori Spelling's life after an affair. Riveting.
2.) Researching how much it would cost to go to Kennebunkport, Maine, Costa Rica, Thailand, Indonesia, Australia, and Michigan. Note: I have no money to take such a trip.
3.) Creating and playing word work games with Carlo.
4.) Cleaning the tile grout in the bathroom with a tooth brush.
5.) Grading the math tests that I have been putting off for the last week. Enter every grade into my grade book, and then write fun comments on all the tests. (If you are a teacher, you know this is the worst, but yet, it is better than laundry.)
6.) Painting the chairs that I bought at an estate sale last year. They have been in the garage for about six months, and painting them a cheery shade of mint green is way better than laundry.
7.) Counting all of the cans of food in the cupboard for no reason. Turn them around so the label is facing outward.
I could go on and on, but I fear that the piles of clothes that need folding are taking on a life of their own. If I do not do something about them, they might slowly take over my house and my hallway, and my bathroom... I might not be able to find my children any more.
What is your chore of death? What do you do instead? Anyone want to come over and have a laundry party?