Laundry Wars

I cleaned last weekend and surprised myself, I finished the whole house, well except for the forest out front. That will just have to stay like that, too much guy stuff that will probably cause a huge ruckus if I throw it all away, as tempting as that may be. I woke up today to find the house just as it was a week ago, before I slaved and cleaned. The garbage tetris game still in full effect, there is always a way to top off the trash bin with more crap, they find just the right spot and angle to add another layer to the trash, just so that the boys in the house avoid to throw out the overflowing garbage, and dare I say reline the new garbage bag afterwards, they are on level 12 of garbage tetris, and I am about to pull the plug and do it myself. The laudry is another war of higher stakes, there is something with my house and dirty laudry, as much as I scream, threat and finally try to bribe them, they still manage to elude themselves from that daunting task. As if there was a religion that I have not been a part in, my husband the pope or budda of the evil sect. I have tried different ways to force them to pick it up, as easy as it would be to just do it myself, i used to pile it on the bed, they just toss it back on the floor. I have now begun to do something else, and since none of them read my blog, it will continue to go as none of them has figured out my new tricks. I hate to wash socks, hate is nice, detest washing socks, that is probably my least favorite. I have resorted to fight back, instead of having their laundry sit on the floor, move to the dirty laundry basket, stay there for weeks, then wait until I wash and fold and return to the closet or drawer, I have decided to skip the middle man, from now on, unless absolutely necessary I put all of their shit back to where it goes, no washing at all. They can be the stinky people, I know my stuff is washed and clean and in its place. They havent figured it out yet, and my laundry has since been managable. When I get home and all is in it's place except for polos and khakis, then I just pick them up, put them on a hanger and maybe if necessary spray some febreeze, yes I do this dammit, I am sick and tired of fighting, and this was something I have threatened for quite some time, so they are calling my bluff and they just need a little time and a little bit of stink me up to figure out that I am done with their insolence. So I have found some joy in this, when I see socks, the pair, yes both of them matching, I quickly ball em up and throw them in the drawer, case closed. Not sure how long it will last, but I am refusing to argue with them any more and they were warned. Lets see how long this will last. Makes me smile, grinning ear to ear. I win.