Once upon a time—not so long ago,
but still long enough ago to relate to it as “once”—in a land not so far away
from here, there was a small island where it was very hot. It was so hot, when
Christmastime came around no-one would want to drink hot cocoa or sit and watch
a candle burn. Instead, the little children would sit in front of their wattle-and-daub
huts in their dirty but colorful clothes, suck on cocoa-beans and sugar cane,
and watch the dirt sweat. A particularly useful plant grew in abundance in this
land, that worked similarly to an ice pack. When you want an ice pack to get
cold, you “break” it. When you wanted the plant to get cold, you simply put it
out in the sunlight. It would drink the energy and emit cold. Therefore it was
the practice of the families of Waedue to grow this plant atop their huts, to
keep their living area comfortable. The animals of this country were unusually large—comparative
to ours, of course. One of the most feared was the poisonous red-eyed biting
turtle, who, because of his shell, was difficult to relocate or kill. Because
the animals preferred to hunt and rest near the coolness of the coast, the
people of Waedue rarely suffered trouble from them.
In one
of the wattle-and-daub huts lived a happy little family of three boys and a
little girl. The boys had just come of age, and were away on the trail with
their father. One particularly warm night, the little girl woke from a
disturbing dream of not being able to walk. She sighed, and peered out into the
darkness of the hut. The moon was out, with shifting shadows from clouds
passing over it shafting in through the doorway and casting strange dull light
on the few pots inside. At her feet, she heard her mother breathing. Across,
she could see the dull color of brown clay on the pots.
Suddenly, she saw an unfamiliar
shape on the floor. It wasn’t the cooking pot—it was bigger. She stared at it,
wondering. A pair of red dots pierced the darkness. She gasped. It hissed. She
screamed!
Her brother
shook her: “Karis, wake up!”
“What???”
He laughed. “You were dreaming,
Karis.”
“Oh. But wait! The turtle’s still
there!”
He looked around, confused. “Turtle?
What turtle?”
Karis pointed over the blankets
towards the middle of the room. “The one there…!!!” She dove back under the
blankets.
Her brother suddenly understood and
smirked to himself. He shook Karis’ shoulder again and turned on the light. “You
mean the pile of clothes?”
“What?? …oh.” Karis felt sheepish.
Very sheepish.
Yah, so that was me as a little girl. It was a time not so
long ago, and it was a land not so far away… just a few rooms down, in fact,
from where I now sit typing this up. I was about five years old, and my own
childish fantasies had exposed not a terribly deadly monster, but a pile of my
own procrastination on my bedroom floor.
Still
today, even without darkness or big poisonous turtles, a pile of laundry can
seem formidable, if not completely impossible to conquer. That’s why number 2
on the “It” list is:
Fold it
Like it’s your sick
friend’s laundry
Everyone
has different difficulties. My sister Esther loves to do the laundry but hates
dishes. My cousin likes to do the dishes (and the laundry, and basically any
other chore. I just love having him over!). My difficulty is… everything. The
long and short of it is, I don’t like chores.
So, my
mind trick. I looked at that pile of laundry. I did not want to fold it.
Steps to my Mind Trick:
1 1. That’s not my laundry.
2 2.
I’m not in my house right now.
3 3.
I’m in my friend’s house.
4 4.
She’s in the other room, sighing with sickness.
An annoying cold. Too weak to fold.
5 5.
I want to surprise her. I found her laundry! Heehee!
What a find! She’ll be so happy!
That one always works with me :)
Family Tricks!!
These are stuff we’ve always done since I can remember.
FOLDING PARTIES!
This makes things so fun! I’m going to group the steps to
include personal and towel laundry in order to make things concise.
1 1.
Each person sorts their personals out of their
laundry as fast as they can. Just throw them in a pile next to your bed to get
them out of your way. Get your clean laundry into a basket.
2 2.
Carry your laundry out to the living-room and
put it where you’re going to sit.
3 3.
Carry out the towels and sheets laundry and put
it in the middle of the room.
4 4.
The oldest kid divides the common laundry into
equal piles for each person folding. Each of us carries that pile back to his
basket of clothes and puts it on top.
5 5.
Now, race each other! The first person to neatly
fold all the way down to his clothes wins! Then there’s another race to finish
folding your own clothes. All the while, play your favorite music or watch a
movie! I still think that I’m smelling clean sheets when I watch Casablanca!
6 6.
Don’t forget to put everything away!
Other Tricks
My main problem is I think of
laundry as a chore. My sister Esther surprised me one day when shy said that
she just adores sitting down on the coach in the middle of a busy day and
folding a relaxing pile of laundry. Relaxing?
Now that I come to think of it, it
is kind of relaxing…
Especially when the window’s open
and I can feel the breeze…
And some sweet lulling music is
playing…
And my doggy’s trying to roll in
the laundry I just cleaned…
And my room seems filled with light
from outside as it dances on the walls…
And there is scope for imagination
in a pile of towels towered high like the wrinkled hills…
And
is it just me, or is that a beady red eye peering out from under those jeans?
Ack!!!
