Something to Bitch About

So, after years and years...18 of them...I finally got tired of picking up dirty clothes from the bathroom floor. Well, not so much just dirty clothes, but wet clothes. I don't think there's anyone but myself in this household who can take a shower without creating a small lake on the floor.

I bought a small laundry hamper. The one thing that kept me doing it before now is that the bathroom is tiny. I only had a certain area where one would fit, and I never really saw anything that would work. I finally found a hamper, which by the way, looks nothing like a hamper should look. I always think about the vintage looking hampers that I saw growing up in my grandparents' homes when I think clothes hamper. This is basically a tall plastic glorified laundry basket. None too attractive, but functional.

At least I thought it was functional. On the first day, I led my husband into the bathroom. "Look at this," I said. "There are no dirty, wet clothes on the bathroom floor."

This pleased me. It pleased me immensely. But as usual, the pleasure was short-lived. This week, the husband and youngest son are out-of-town for work. I don't know what the challenge is, but the oldest son seemingly can't lift the lid off the hamper and deposit his clothes into it. I don't get it.

The child weighs something like 240 lbs, constantly brags about how much he can bench press and squat, and can knock other linebackers onto their asses on the football field. Yet...he can't bend over and pick up his freakin' dirty clothes.

What brought a bit of delight, however temporary, makes me grit my teeth when I walk into the bathroom and see sweat pants and boxer shorts, naturally soaked with a wet towel lying on top of them on the floor.

Come on, now. What is the freakin' challenge? How hard is it? How much time does it take? Ahh, well. It gives me something to bitch about.