Yes, it was a super-sexy Sunday here at chez M-G. And six is the exact number of loads of washing I did.
Pause for you to orgasm at the sexiness that is my life.
I do not love the domestic. The thing about washing clothes is that fuckers keep wearing them (this fucker included) and there just ain't no reaching the summit of a washing mountain. I want to plant a flag in washing once and for all but alas, I add this to a long list of unfulfilled dreams including eating my weight in chocolate mousse and watching Season 5 of Dexter in one marathon sitting (preferably at the same time).
I am feeling pretty awesome about the washing I did today though. I executed the task with unusual dedication, bringing each load from dirty right through to folded and put away. You need to appreciate the magnitude of this. I am a serial 'throw a load on, forget about it and return three days later to clothes that smell like Satan's anus' kind of clothes washer. In this house, clothes stay on the clothes-horse for seven weeks or hang around in baskets for so long that I forget whether they're clean or dirty.
Today was all about washing. Which sounds like the worst kind of day, I know. But there's a strange satisfaction in knowing that my family has freshly laundered clothes ready to go for the week ahead instead of wet anus clothes. For once, I won't be mocked by baskets of clean, dry clothes marched purposefully to somewhere other than the laundry under the guise of being put away and then promptly forgotten when something urgent like checking Facebook calls me away.
Today, I was a washing Jedi. Now if we can all commit to a week of largely nude living, I may be able to live out the glory a little longer.
So it's been a sexy day around here. And I have big plans for more sexiness in the week ahead.
Tomorrow, B heads off for a busy week of study and I am anticipating this Little Mumma will be time poor in the extreme. Forgive me if I'm not as chatty as usual.
The Little Mumma loves you!