In a show of solidarity for the union workers up at that glass company, I too am having a “sit in.” Course, my sit in really doesn’t involve me sitting anywhere, but more like I’m passively boycotting doing something here at the house. Allow me to explain:

I do my fair share of household chores with nary a complaint. I’ll wash dishes, clean windows and vacuum floors simply because they need doing, without having to be nagged or asked to. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, or getting on my hands and knees to scrub baseboards if it needs it (course, I’d rather see CareerMom doing it, but that’s another blog post entirely), but there’s one chore that I just really do not like to do even though I know it is probably one of the most mundane and least offensive ones around–laundry.

I don’t really mind laundry in general. I mean, streaky underwear from the boys doesn’t bother me, and neither do sweaty lycra gym clothes, but what I particularly dislike is folding laundry. If there is any activity more mindless than sitting there on the floor with a huge pile of clothes just awaiting your hand, I don’t know it.

Granted, I’m not a great folder. I know how to tuck one sock up into another to keep them as a family. I’m a pretty good “whomper” of towels and jeans when they need a good straightening to get the wrinkles out. But shirts are a whole nuther issue entirely. I simply cannot fold shirts, despite military training, which included a pair of tweezers, a hot iron and flimsy Fruit-o-the-Loom brown tees.

Needless to say, anything that drags out the process of folding clothes–especially shirts–just drives me friggin’ nuts. Which brings me back to why I’m boycotting.

Certain members of my household don’t bother flipping their shirts right-side-out when they take them off. And it’s not just one person in the house doing it. It’s also the young ones who often need assistance with the removal of their clothes and whose preferred quick removal move of choice involves grabbing the hem of their shirts and pulling them, inside out, over their heads, after which the shirts are summarily tossed into the laundry without undergoing a reverse process  to turn them outside-in. This means that when I’m sitting there folding the dad-blamed things, not only do I have to fumble with them as I’m folding them, but I also have to take the time to flip them outside-in!

And THAT, my friends, is intolerable.

So, I’m boycotting. It’s a passive boycott mind you. I’m not telling anyone (but you all) about it. No, instead, I’m simply NOT flipping the offending articles of clothing back outside-in.

My new laundry motto: How I get ’em, is how you get ’em!

I’m curious to see if the point is taken.

What about you? What’s your most despised chore?