But not thrown so much for a loop as the ds's laundry, when he got home. Granted, he warned me last night, when he said that I would never believe all the laundry he had to bring home. Asking him if I was going to need a sherpa, just so we could get it to the van. This was followed by a discussion of sherpas and their crazy mad skills, which probably was a diversion for the mountain he intended to move -- straight into our bathroom, where the washer is located. OK, so he hadn't been home for three weeks, and he brought his ROOMMATE'S laundry home then, not his, so I knew that he hadn't done laundry in at least five weeks.
Granted, he developed something of a phobia of the laundromat at school after his laundry was stolen, the first time he did laundry there. But still, I wasn't prepared for this:
Yep, you can't get the bathroom door open, for all the laundry on the floor. Kind of reminded me of Dorothy walking out the door after crashlanding in Oz. If you poke around enough, you might find some shoes with ruby slippers poking out.
And note this:
Underneath that bedspread on the right, is another garbage bag of laundry that hasn't been sorted yet. Not shown is the other garbage bag of laundry still in the hall, and not opened or sorted yet.
And this basket, shown halfway through the sorting process,
Oye. Well, thankfully, the big guy came home with detergent, because, as you probably guessed, he only did laundry at school a total of once -- and that was the time that it got stolen. So, despite the fact that I was out of detergent as of the load of towels I washed this morning, we were still able to dig right in.
Now, if we could get into the bathroom. Maybe by Saturday..........