Laundry

When I was little, my mom would always sit down with a basket of clean laundry to fold after everyone was in bed. Us kids would be in bed by 8, my dad asleep by 9. She’d sit on the couch and fold, the house impeccably clean around her, my dad’s lunch packed and ready to go in the morning.

Now and then I would sneak out to the living room, quilted, worn blankie in hand, and lay down on the couch beside her, or on the floor in front of the stove, unaware of how my presence might take away a little of her traditional, peaceful down time. I’d watch her fold socks, roll underwear, and laugh at the Carol Burnett Show on the TV across the room. 

She’d always wake me up when the credits were rolling, and I’d always ask if the Carol Burnett Show was a cartoon. I remember the little animated “janitor” at the end and her mop.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: