Death, Taxes and Laundry

So, we've always heard that nothing in life is certain except death and taxes, right? WRONG. I am officially amending that little adage. It shall now, and forever be known to all as: nothing in life is certain except death, taxes and laundry. Sneer.

As soon as I finish putting away the socks, Tony takes off his boots, and there is a pair of dirty socks on the floor. Kitchen towels all nice and clean in the cabinet? Oh, thanks for tracking mud all over the floor, Riley. No, I really appreciate it. The hamper is never empty. If I even get close to the bottom, it's bed time so the day's clothes just add to the madness. The laundry n e v e r ends.

Why, oh why, did Eve have to bite that damn apple?? She had it MADE with the laundry situation, and she had to go and ruin it all. Then again, I wouldn't want my nakedness on display all the time either. So I guess I can't fault her too much. Maybe she was just having a fat day and wanted something more than a leaf to cover herself. Sometimes, a girl just needs a pair of sweats!

Anyway, Gidget has been sleeping on the mountain of dirty clothes in my bedroom floor for the last few days. If she situates herself just right on the whites, you can't even see her. I've debated a picture, since she's so darn cute, but I'm just too embarrassed to show the pile! Another day, and I'm going to have to name that mountain. Maybe I'll name it after Miss G. After all, she discovered it and claimed it as her own!

Thankfully, tomorrow is Good Friday, so I've got a three day weekend! I will be getting an Easter pedicure, taking a short drive to hit a few little shops for some much needed shopping, and oh yeah, the laundry. Barf.