A normal person might not be tempted to store a basket of clean laundry on the bathroom floor…
But I am not a normal person. I am a mother to preschool age children. This means that while doing anything in our house (including laundry), I will be called into the bathroom at least once an hour, to either (a) help with the potty, (b) fish something out of the toilet, (c) turn off the tub (which T can now turn on…) or (d) admire a poop.
You think I’m kidding or exaggerating, but I’m not.
So inevitably, I end up accidentally leaving the basket of laundry I was carrying when paged into the bathroom. It doesn’t help that our main bathroom is right next to our main closet, so clean laundry naturally collects there while waiting its turn to be put away. And of course, you’re going to want clean clothes nearby at bath-time, so the kids will have something to change into once they get out of the tub. Such is my litany of excuses/explanations for why we always seem to have clean clothes in a basket on our bathroom floor…
Well, we have already had several incidents that should remind me to move the clothes to a different location. But I won’t focus on small scale things like a toothbrush being dropped on a shirt (which now smells a little too clean and minty) or bathtime splash stories (too many to tell), and stick with the larger incidents. (They will make you wonder, how have I not yet learned this “no clean laundry in the bathroom” lesson? But before your judge, please consider how sleep deprivation impacts brain function… Anyway, I digress…)
Incident 1: T turning on the tub, grabbing the cup we use to rinse hair at bath-time, filling the cup and pouring it into the clean, dry laundry (not a crisis…but many items back into the dryer…)
Incident 2: T unpacking all the clean laundry onto the not-completely-clean bathroom floor (again, not a crisis, but certainly less than ideal) and
Incident 3 (last night): T peeing on several clothing items because for some reason, he is determined to pee during the 30 second window between when I remove his diaper and when I place him in the tub. (Perhaps the running water inspires him?) Again, not a crisis, until there is a pile of clean laundry (in this case, not a basket, but the items we were planning on wearing post-bath) in direct line of the pee.
What is the point of having clean, freshly bathed children, I ask you, when the clothes you were going to put on them are now covered in urine?
Oh well (I type as I prepare to do yet another load of laundry), it is just another chapter in my book of “one happy step forward; fifty ridiculous steps back…”