1. While it is well known that one should never mix lights and darks, it is even more important to be in time to catch one’s mother doing just that and so prevent widespread destruction to one’s favourite Fred Perry honeycomb-cotton polos.
2. Just as whites reign supreme in the world of fashion, so does their reign extend in the world of the unwashed. This means whites get special treatment and get to be washed exclusively together. Segregation still exists. Even in the 21st century.
3. Going with the birds of a feather rule (see above), wash only likeminded pieces of clothing together. This means my shirts go in with Dad’s shirts, Mum’s skirts go in with June’s skirts. Trousers undergo similar treatment. If only I happen to own any number of white trousers, then it’s a half-load. Again, no unnecessary mixing.
4. It is a cardinal sin to ever put the socks in with the bath towels. Even in a hot wash. If you are one of those who do just that, please leave a comment. I will send you a tract exhorting you to do the right thing. I mean, isn’t the mental picture of sweaty socks rubbing noses (or toeses as it were) with fluffy cleaner-than-thou bath towels shocking to you?
5. I’ll tell you what’s more shocking. It’s catching one’s lovely and well-meaning mum doing just that. On a sidenote: I was accused of being a control freak, because it was pointed out that if I didn’t catch family members redhanded with bad laundry habits, I’d be fine. Ignorance is bliss, right? But then again, if I didn’t know what my mum was up to, that’s how I’d know that something was wrong. Again, I am not a control freak.
When I think back on my recent trip to New York, where I was away 10 days from family, I think mum must have had a party and mixed up the laundry like there was no tomorrow. Socks, towels, whites, trousers, all gleefully crowded together in one happy jumble. At least *my* clothes were spared the ordeal.
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