I’m reading this book called “Laundry Love: Finding Joy in a Common Chore.” Does the mere title of this book make you chuckle or snort indignantly?
Is it even possible to feel happiness while sorting, washing, drying, ironing, and putting everyone’s clothes away? I was intrigued but skeptical.
I don’t see laundry as a sparking joy in my life. If I had to “Marie Kondo” household chores, cooking would come in first, laundry second, and decluttering a distant third. But then, I’d be hungry, naked, and up to my eyeballs in junk mail. So, I’m willing to keep an open mind.
Right now, I am backed up on laundry. I recently had a knock-down, dragged-out fight with the garbage disposal and lost. Apparently, the combination of green beans, carrots, and corn kernels does not go down easily. I managed to clog up the pipes, which turned out to be connected to the basin, making it impossible to run laundry. We tried to resolve the problem ourselves with Draino and that sink snake thingy. When that didn’t work, we called the plumber to come and fix the sink. (Are there any Electric Company fans out there?).
Anyway – $175 later – I now have a working drain and started to do the first of several loads of laundry. My family is happy to know that they will be able to start the week with clean underwear.
Wait a minute…
Is this why laundry could be considered a love language? Is it because I show the people I love how much I care for them by ensuring that they have clean clothes to wear? Is agreeing to take on such a long and thankless (not to mention never-ending) chore really an act of kindness? I suppose it’s possible.
As I read more about love languages, I found out that “acts of service” like lightening the load (not the laundry load – but the workload) or doing something helpful without being asked is indeed an act of love. So, maybe fluffing towels and changing bedsheets is my way of telling my family that I love them.
Ugh, couldn’t I just take them out for a nice dinner or buy them something they really want instead? Like a pony or a car?
Whether laundry brings me joy or not – as the book promises – remains to be seen. But this epitome that I have come to as I write this blog makes me want to keep reading.
What do you think? Does laundry bring you joy? Is it your family’s love language? Do tell in the comments below.