The renowned actor Ed Asner famously remarked, “Raising children is part joy and part guerrilla warfare.” It seems he must have been reflecting on the laundry room—the ultimate battleground where well-meaning parents morph into fierce warriors fighting for survival.
An empty laundry basket? A rare and glorious sight, providing a fleeting sense of triumph. But with two teenagers in the house, these precious moments are as uncommon as finding a purple-striped zebra in the forests of Pennsylvania. The sheer volume of dirty clothes produced by kids aged 13 to 18 is nothing short of astounding. The laundry basket rarely stays empty for more than 60 to 90 minutes—if you time the washing cycles just right while they’re at school, practice, or work.
What many may not realize is that kids secretly pledge a laundry oath upon entering adolescence:
- Any garment tried on but deemed unsuitable must be washed.
- Wet towels belong in a damp ball, not hung up.
- Pajamas cannot be worn two nights in a row.
- Coats require washing twice a week.
- Any item that doesn’t fit in a drawer is best left in the laundry basket.
My husband, who genuinely enjoys doing laundry, doesn’t grasp that if I wait for him to tackle it on the weekends, clothing would overflow from the laundry room, spilling into the hallway and even the second-floor foyer.
As you might have guessed, laundry has never been my favorite pastime. Yet, as someone who works from home, the bulk of these chores has fallen on my shoulders—until I hit my breaking point.
After completing four loads earlier in the day, I found the laundry basket overflowing by evening. That was it. I was frustrated, irritable, and utterly fed up. Forget folding—I had houses to sell, novels to write, endless meals to prepare, walks to take, and a mountain of kids’ sporting events to attend. I wasn’t being compensated for this, nor did it bring me any emotional satisfaction.
So, I did what any rational person would do in such dire circumstances. I went to Target, headed straight to the home goods section, and purchased four hampers. Then, I convened a family meeting where I announced that I was officially done with laundry.
My husband supported the new plan, but my daughter protested, claiming it was unjust since I had been doing her brother’s laundry for 17 years, and if this new rule stood, she’d only gotten 14 years out of me. My son groaned and retreated to his room. I happily placed my new hampers in the back of my closet, feeling a twinge of guilt for their impending loneliness.
Some friends thought I was being unreasonable. “The kids have enough on their plates. They won’t manage laundry,” one said. Others smirked, clearly doubtful. Yet, some women looked at me with admiration. Could it really be possible?
To succeed in this laundry liberation, I had to let go of my obsessive neatness. While I enjoy things orderly, I found that closing the doors to my kids’ rooms made the transition easier.
Eight weeks have passed since my “I’m Done With Laundry” declaration. How’s it going? Well, I’m no longer doing anyone’s laundry except my own. Each week, my children are discovering their own laundry habits. My son has transitioned from leaving clean clothes in the dryer to tossing them on the floor and cramming them into his closet. He hasn’t realized that this is only creating more ironing for himself (which, of course, I’m not doing).
Meanwhile, my daughter’s laundry skills have rapidly progressed. Initially, she would stack clean clothes on her bed, but that made sleeping difficult. She soon found that the laundry basket could serve as a convenient storage solution. Now—drumroll, please—she is folding her clothes and putting them away in her closet. Score! My husband enjoys doing his own laundry every Sunday. As for me, I’ve simply had to purchase more underwear.
This battle has been won! Not to boast, but I might be reaching legendary status. Friends whisper as I walk by, and one even sent me a Happy Mother’s Day message with a note saying she bought hampers for her entire family.
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In summary, I stopped doing my family’s laundry, and in doing so, I’ve not only liberated myself but also empowered my kids to take charge of their responsibilities. It turns out that sometimes, stepping back can lead to unexpected growth.