Enter: laundry help

Ikea didn't have what we were looking for. Target had what we were looking for. While going in to look for some shorts we browsed through the living organization section.

Side note on the shorts, this happens to me every year. I always need clothes too far into the end of a season and I am such a grateful 'normal' size that everything that is cute is sold out in my size. Blessings of being such an average size. It's ridiculous. But it happens, to no end, especially in the summer. Last year it was a swimsuit. This year I got my swim suit in March. That's right, when kids are still skating on frozen ponds here in Utah. However, I am still looking for shorts. After being sick for so long and feeling accomplished if I got my hair washed that day I am tired of mulling around in jeans or sweats. I need some shorts. And there are no shorts to be found. Bummer deal.

Now, please tangent back to our laundry situation from the last episode of my ridiculous life. We were looking for something to dump clean clothes into so that they don't have to spread all over our green, shag carpeted floor. Don't take a double-take on the shag. It's normal life. Don't worry about it. And the all too well-known pea green carpet of the 70's, don't pretend you're not jealous. Sometimes I think that my clothes look better on the floor 'cause then there isn't so much green. So much shag green making you think you're outside and perhaps should throw down a picnic blanket.

And we found it. We found a woven basket. Woven casket? Casket. It's huge. 80$ huge. We could only afford one. We could only fit one in our car. We had an arm wrestle over who got to use it. Steven won. Of course. He wasn't playing weak for such a tremendous reward. I get to use the dresser. The whole dresser. The whole boring dresser. That I promise I will put pink wall paper in the drawers. That's what I get to use, minus one drawer that Steven keeps his belts and odd clothes in, like shorts and long sleeve shirts and stuff that doesn't get worn too often. Mostly because I try not to remind him of those clothes that should probably be given to DI. Or burned.

We've got a casket in our bedroom against the wall, and it looks awesome. I no longer need to worry about folding clothes. I just need to get them sorted and practice my shooting skills. It's going to be fantastic.