What is full of food, bundled with clothes, and hums all the time?
My laundry room.
The room designed for laundering linens has undergone a transformation around here. It now houses the nine-year-old’s and the five-year-old’s entire wardrobes, as well as our groceries. You might be asking yourself why anyone hasn’t conceived of such a brilliant storage idea before.
Here is my response to Why? In list form:
A) It has a door.
B) The door has a lock.
C) It is a moderately spacious laundry room, meaning it can handle a whole bunch of extra stuff.
D) Who doesn’t want to lock up their children’s shorts, tees, and undies, along with the family’s food staples?
The food in our home has been on lockdown for years, because that is the preferred alternative to a crunchy floor, covered in crushed goldfish crackers and Fruit Loops. We are accustomed to this method of storing food. Even our little neighbor pals know when they visit to ask for a key if they fancy a granola bar. In my home, open food access equals shredded carb house.
But clothing—-this is something new.
After spending the summer as an overworked, under appreciated laundress, I got smart and moved the duds. No more can the two culprits with sensory issues change their outfits because a drop of water landed on their shorts, a piece of French toast touched their shirt, or because the wind shifted outside and thus everything is different now!
No more Duggar-sized laundry projects for this gal.
I am the new bailiff of the heart of the house. All who wish to eat or clothe themselves must go through me.
I may require them to answer me a riddle before they pass through into the butler’s pantry/closet/cellar place to retrieve their sandals and their Honey Nut Cheerios. We shall see.