Mack Weldon recently sent me some underwear, which is kind of him as I wanted some. It’s also dutiful that he did so as I paid for the garments including shipping and handling. There is no lack of nether-drawers in my dresser but the purchase was justified that some of the usuals are ready for the rag drawer. I am most grateful for Mr. Weldon for lending me his underwear which are of the boxer type – my preference.

Someone prefers a different sort of shorts –  a good thing as two men sharing the same dirty duds drawer it gets a bit blurred who owns and wears what. Our sock style also differs so the sorting of socks is an easy chore.  In contrast we wear the same oh-so-practical white T-shirts which we merely divide 50-50.

I have long suspected Someone doesn’t like the way I fold clothes. My Swiss-German genetics can’t abide piles of clean clothes sitting unfolded so I generally fold everything my way and later he refolds his. As an aside I recently saw on Youtube how to fold a shortsleeved shirt in a few seconds. I don’t quite have the hang of it but it’s jolly good fun. The jury is out if Someone approves.

There is a silent agreement we iron our own shirts. It’s a pleasure for me to iron my Spo-shirts. In contrast  ironing my dress shirts is terribly tedious. I admit I am no great with an iron but what I do is ‘good enough ironing’ as it were. On the other hand Someone needs his dress shirts precisely ironed and he does this very well. Think of The Buddha on Adderall.  He can to let the ‘to iron’ pile grow as high as Fafner’s hoard while I see the ironing like an old man jumping for the weed killer at the first sign of a dandelion in his otherwise precise lawn.

We may have our differences in folding and ironing but we are in agreement there is always a lot of laundry. It never ceases to amaze us how two men generate so much in a week. The washer and dryer seem to be in a continual use.

Thus is laundry a metaphor for life: no matter how much you do you it is never enough to keep up.