Just call me Sir Edmund Hillary

Every couple weeks, a pile of laundry accumulates at the foot of our bed so large that I start to think I am going to need a belayer to tackle it (yes, I had to look up belay on Wikipedia, but, in my defense, I at least knew what I was looking up!).

Anyway, it always takes a few hours (or days, depending on how lazy I feel) to wash and put away all the laundry. And every time, I promise myself that I will not let it get this bad again. I will do small loads more frequently and promptly put everything in its rightful place as it comes out of the drier. This never happens.

So, I am off, once again, to climb my Bounce-scented Everest. Wish me luck!