I'm doing laundry in the buff tonight.
Believe me, it's not a pretty picture. (Amelia recently informed me that my belly is "pushy.") Why the naked chores? Well, it's not a kinky Valentine's Day gift for Julie or anything. It's because I HAVE NO CHOICE. Washing laundry has got to be the single lamest resposibility that comes with the at home parent career. It's monotonous. It's soul sapping. It. Never. Ends. And the biggest thorn of all is that even when you put that very last load in the washer you still aren't done. You can't storm your aircraft carrier, "mission accomplished" banners a-waving, because the sad fact remains that at that moment you are still wearing more clothes that need to be washed.
But tonight I will claim victory. Every last soiled garment, bib, pillow case -- and all of their bretheren -- will be laundered. Everything down to the socks on my feet will be cleaned. And I will have my glory. Well, that's assuming I can convince Julie that I need her to take her clothes off for more noble purposes than as a kinky Valentine's Day gift for me.
Oh, and please pray that Julie's parents don't come home while I'm doing my victory dance in front of their washer and dryer. No one wants that mission accomplished.