The Angel of Laundry

I have never been very good at housekeeping. I want to be, I really do. And I try. But it has never been my forte. Having children simply exasperated a problem that was always there. There is one area in particular in which I really struggle. That area is laundry. Now some of you may be nodding, thinking you too share this same nemesis. But sadly, I think I probably have you beat. I've reached new heights in my mountains of laundry. I'm drowning. 

It has gotten really bad lately, I got a little bit more behind than usual, and I can't seem to find my way back. There seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel, and then an angel appeared on my doorstep. 

That angel was a dear friend if mine, who I haven't seen in ages. We had a wonderful visit, and at some point I mentioned the mountains of laundry waiting for me upstairs. Before I knew it, we were upstairs, and she was directing me, in a very orderly fashion, and my mountain began to resemble a hill. She even got Tessie involved, and we smiled at Tessie's little pile of neatly folded shirts. 

She eventually had to leave, and I thanked her profusely for her help. She shrugged it off in a "what are friends for" kind of way, and we hugged each other goodbye. There are still a lot of clothes to be washed and put away, but thanks to the much needed help of a wonderful friend, I am that much closer to a beautiful end. Now for the kitchen...