The time when I Laundry Vented

SOCKBALLS!!

Daily, I find myself in a situation in which the little voice in my head says to me, "Kara, you should blog about this". It also seems that at these moments I am elbow deep in diapers, bathwater, dishwater, laundry and you get it......the list just goes on. I swear to myself that I will remember, but then surprise surprise, I never EVER do. Many friends have referred to this as the Mommy "Condition" and I think it's just plain bad luck that when you reach your thirties (regardless of other circumstances) you loose your flippin' mind. So, my very last "Write this Down" moment was in the laundry room sorting none other than dirty clothes.

I love my husband and I must repeat this at least 3 times as I'm typing. He has told me that in other cultures that you can divorce your wife by simply saying 3 times outloud, "I divorce you.....I divorce you ......I divorce you" I don't believe it, but that is why when I say, "I love my husband" I feel I must say it 3 times to justify the BUT. And here, is the BUT. SOCKBALLS!! So I can deal with the occasional (who are we kidding this is constant too) inside out shirt. I can even handle the Whoops... Burt's Bees in the pocket of the pants thing, but the SOCKBALLS are where I draw the line. I bitch about little (maybe 25% of the crap that REALLY GETS ME), but I bitch about SOCKBALLS every time I encounter them. Why is it that my husband is incapable of removing his socks without inadvertently rolling them into a tight little wad. You know that that is not going to get clean in the washing machine and it sure as hell isn't going to dry in the dryer. You also know that we have no SOCKBALL fairy that comes in and loosens these tight little bundles in preparation for the wash. 


He tells me, "Let's sort the laundry into darks and lights right here in our closet so that you have less work to do on laundry day." Awe....such a sweet gesture. I'd like to say, "Since I am forced to go thru and empty all your pockets of Ammunition, Tootsie Pops (not even kidding), chapstick, keys (Xtera key fob) dog poop bags, chocolate, mints (never any actual MONEY) as well as pry open sockballs, remove belts, velcro patches, zip up and velcro loose pieces to prevent LAUNDRY BALL (Just picture the Indian Jones scene and me running down the hall from a giant mass of clothes velcroed together) I'll just sort thru it myself in the basement" But, as I said before, 25% of what actually really bugs me. So I say, "Great idea hun."


A great friend and fellow blogger emailed me today to suggest topics to help me find my niche.Still haven't found my niche. I think I am too big and crazy to fit in a niche. If you have suggestions, please comment. I'll keep working...K?