Doing Laundry

Monday is laundry day around here. The family laundry has been my chore since the kid was born. I used to get up… Well, the new born would get us up at 6am, and on Sundays, I would head out around that time, and walk the one block to the local laundromat. We had been going to that place for years, and all the people who worked there knew me, so it was a friendly place. (In fact, before the kid was born, we used to drop our laundry off and use their wash and fold service. But with a baby, we stopped using the service, and I started doing it all ourselves.) That was six and a half years ago when I started doing the laundry. The laundromat has gone through a renovation and a change in management, but now every Monday, I am there doing it.

Recently, I started thinking about my chore of the laundry. It takes up two hour of my day, and sometime longer if I do or do not get help folding. It would be nice to have a washer and dryer in our apartment, or at least in the building, but even if that were true, it would still be a chore that I would have to do, and it would still take up time. But, the time really doesn’t bother me, as I am writing this while all the clothes are in the dryer.

What I started thinking about is how I sort of feel fulfilled doing this chore. Like making dinner every night, I like that I provide a necessary service for my family. I don’t feel like I am being taken advantage of, or that this is a thankless job. I like that I am doing something that helps the family keep moving forward. I never thought I would get to the point in my life where I would enjoy doing laundry.