Seriously. I need to vent. There is not one clean towel in my house. And if you know anything about me, you know that is almost impossible.
Let me explain. Actually, to understand this you need to know about an addiction some of the women in my family have. They LOVE bath towels. Extravagant, luxurious, get pairs in every color to match the holiday, fold them and stack them and love them like crazy bath towels. My sister has this addiction, my mom has it, and her mom before her. I should probably clarify that I was not blessed with this particular addiction. Heck, I would still be using the threadbare pathetic mismatches I got for my wedding 20 years ago if it was not for my lovely mother. You see, when my Grandma passed away a few years back, my mom thought it would be nice for me to have some stuff that was hers. Yep, you guessed it. I got towels. Bags and bags of towels. And this really weird brass looking guy that plays the piano when you wind him up. And a huge snowglobe and some neat books. Weird to inherit towels from my Grandma? Yes. But it is what it is.
So anywhooo...back to what I was venting about. I'm tired. This is my first week back to work full time. I want a hot shower. I have millions of towels. Any size, any color you want, I've got it stashed in various creative spaces all over my house. And NOT ONE CLEAN ONE ANYWHERE. Not even in my secret stashes.
I have teenage boys. And a husband. And they all refuse to reuse towels. They all take at least 2 showers a day. Add that up---it's a buttload of towels. And tonight, I don't have a clean one. That's all I'm saying. Feel my pain.....OK--I'm feeling a little better now. I'd better go. I have laundry to do.