It seems every week, I am besieged by stinky t-shirts, muddy pants, hairy bedsheets and other various garments and such in varying states of cleanliness. Cleanlessness?
The little kids are used to the hourly treks up and down the stairs. Hauling yet another basket of filth to the laundry and delivering a fresh batch upstairs to retire to its nesting place, waiting for the next round of grime to cover it. Boudreaux is perplexed by the contant trail of smelly goodness rendered sweet and uninviting by the washing machine. He thinks they are far better worn than fresh.
Zali, however loves a load, warm from the dryer. He used to make the many trips to and fro until of late. Boudreaux, puppy still, inadvertently stepped on him and hurt one of Zali's knees. I would climb the staircase, he would whine pitifully at the base. Trapped by his floating kneecaps.
Then yesterday, it came to me. Going up! I swooped up Zali and plopped him on the warm, folded towels and carted him with me.
Zali gets a free ride to the top and I have one fewer trip back down to retrieve him. No more tears!
Now if I can just figure out how to keep Boudreaux from mouthing all over the cat until she becomes a soggy blop of fur...
I'm not really sure there's an entry in the manual for that.