The numbers of my laundry perplex me...especially Ben's laundry. Let me tell you why by giving you a simple mathematical story problem to work out.
Chelsey does the laundry 3 times a week. On Tuesday (laundry day1), as she's folding clothes, she notices that Ben's pile has 10 pair of shorts, 4 pairs of jeans, five shirts and several underwear and socks. On Thursday (laundry day 2), as she's folding clothes, she notices that Ben's pile has 6 pair of shorts, 2 pair of jeans, 20 shirts, 1 sweatshirt and several underwear and socks. On Saturday (laundry day 3), as she's folding clothes, she notices that Ben's pile has 12 pair of shorts, 4 jeans and 12 shirts along with several socks and underwear. If we assume all of the clothes that are put through the laundry were dirty upon entering the washing machine, what is the average number of pair of shorts, jeans and shirts Ben wears per day?
Well, we know there are only 7 days in a week. We know for the week the number of shorts washed for Ben were 28, the number of jeans washed for Ben were 10 and the number of shirts washed for Ben were 37. That's 4 pairs of shorts per day, 1 3/7 pair of jeans per day, and 5 2/7 shirts worn per day.
I wonder as I'm doing laundry is he really wearing that much clothing per day or is he just dumping out clean clothes onto his floor as he searches for his favorite shirt to wear, leaving those clean clothes there on the floor and then putting every piece of clothing into the laundry when I ask him to pick his room up nightly? My recent observations of his clothing trends tend to lead me to believe the latter.
On a separate note I fixed my dishwasher. I feel like supermom when I do things like this. It was making a grinding noise when it was supposed to drain. Brad wasn't home to fix it and I can't live without my dishwasher, so I got online, googled my question and found the solution. It was the impeller wheel (I bet you don't even know what an impeller wheel is) giving me all the trouble. It had something stuck in it. Guess what it was? Oh yes, a lego. *sigh* No wonder it was grinding.
I had to play the organ in sacrament meeting this week. Yes, I kind of know how to play. I got roped into it years ago when our ward didn't have an organist and I was one of two who played the piano. Anyhow it's been years since I've played the organ and I had to practice a lot. The keys are so much more sensitive than the piano and the sound so much louder. Any little bump and the organ let's out a big honk. Fingering is so important and I practiced and practiced and practiced. I practiced so much that my thumbs, from perching (that's a fancy word for putting your thumbs on their side that I recently learned from teaching my kids piano), are sore.
And, finally, it's invasion of the dolls at our house. They've taken over the guest bathroom as their headquarters. They're grooming; you know, bathing, washing their hair, changing clothes. Ocassionally there's been attacks from outsiders and they've had to rally together to fight off the enemy. No barbie likes to lose a head.
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