Is it just me, or does it seem that little people require an unbelievable amount of fabric in their lives?
Fabric is causing me stress these days. It seems that we are becoming overrun with fabric. It’s natural state in our house? Not nicely folded and put away in a closet or dresser, but rather in little piles that seem to gather overnight in corners of the house. A pile of clothes over there, an errant sock here, diapers drying on a rack, a sweater on the stairs, dishtowel on the kitchen floor, hand towel full of paint on the playroom floor. Everywhere I look I see fabrics, disheveled and strewn askew.
They are impossible to control, preferring to spread out around the house. Oh look, there is a scarf and a pair of mittens on the kitchen table. A blanket for ClipClop the horse draped over the plant in the corner, and another one for Ty Bear hanging on the hall banister.
Is that a wet towel lying on the bathroom floor? A sunhat on my desk? Where does this stuff come from? Why can’t I control it? Whose devilish plot is this to drive me insane?