Laundry Room Lectures

Whenever I wash clothes (usually twice a week), I always think of Dakari (our favorite snack who we affectionately call here on my blog "Milk and Cookies").


I know I miss him much, that's for sure... He's in the Army, stationed at Fort Ben.ning in Columbus Georgia, close to a couple of hours from Atlanta. I hear that he is going to Texas soon, and going through "Jump School" for paratrooper training. (Of course he doesn't tell me these things directly, because I get overly upset about this whole army thing...)

Yeah, I miss him, but that ain't the reason I think of him when I do laundry.

He lived with me during the summer of 2006... and all kinds of craziness took place in the laundry room...

For one... I came home one day and there was a freakin' shark in my laundry sink. Scared the hell out of me. (Click here for "The Older they Get...")

If that wasn't enough, he had this thing for paintball.

He liked to lay out all of his stuff on the ironing board and the washer... on top of MY towels.

He'd bring all that mess home and spend much time in the laundry room scrubbing and washing out paint stains. Then he would put his nasty paint ball clothes in the washing machine. They would leave dirty residue all in the basin of the washer. Goodness. He'd look at me like I was crazy when I would get on him about it...

But one day, he pissed me off...

I went to wash clothes, and their was only enough detergent for a couple of loads.

It was time to have a talk with Milk and Cookies.

He was lounging on the couch with the remote control, flipping through channels, just enjoying life.

"Hey, Shawty."
"'Sup, Lee."
"Check it out," I said. "I wash clothes around here."
"Okay," he responds.
"Your sister wash clothes around here, too."
He nods.
"Shawty, don't you wash clothes up in this house?"
"Yeah, Lee."

I waited to see if he got the point. He went back to watching television. I wanted to snatch that remote from his hand and go upside his head with it.

But I was cool.

"We got a system going on around here. Now, when I go to the store, I get a thing of detergent. When Kentucky goes to the store, she gets detergent if we are low."
"Okay," he said.

Then he goes back to watching television. I wanted to jack him up, but shoot, dude is tall and solid. He's not 5 years old anymore.

"Look here man, do you wash clothes in this house?"
"Yeah."
"So that means you need to do your part and pick up some laundry detergent."

He gets this look on his face, like I just told him to fly to the moon or something.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy, Kari. You need to go get some detergent. There's a little left in there, enough for me to wash, but you need to do your part."
He sat up straight. "Uh, where do I buy it, Lee?"

**crickets**

He almost got tackled. But I held my cool.

This boy is so spoiled. Our mama has always washed and folded his clothes for him and cooked all of his meals, even now. I taught him how to sort, wash, and fold his own clothes when he was 14. (Wow, Lee, it ain't as hard as I thought it would be!") I even taught him how to do a little cooking. But our mama still babies him. I know it was a shock when he stayed with me, because I didn't do none of that for him!

"Kari, I don't care where you go. You can go to Wal-mart, or you can go to that bootleg Grandmas Kitchen store down the street on the corner across from where the dealers sell their dope. I suggest you don't go there, 'cuz the detergent is going to be real expensive, and you don't want to get caught up in the usual dope boy shoot-outs."

He looks at me like I'm crazy again. My nostrils flare. But I still maintain my cool.

"Lee, what kind do I buy?"
"Dude, I don't care what kind you buy. The easiest thing to do is go in the laundry room, look up in the cabinet where we keep the detergent and see what kind it is."
"Okay," he said.

Later that evening, while I was washing dishes, I saw him go in the laundry room and grab the yellow container of Arm and Hammer detergent from the cabinet. He read the front, shook it up, and even opened it up and smelled it. I thought he was studying it a bit too hard, but oh well.

As long as he got the point of our little "discussion".

Anyway, the next day, he ran up on me while I was laying across the bed watching television.

"Lee," he yelled. He held up a Wal-mart bag and yanked the container of Arm and Hammer detergent out. "I bought the detergent!"

"Good," was my simple answer.

He looked disappointed.

What was I suppose to do, give him a doggone pat on the back?

"This stuff is expensive, BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAH!" he whined.

I pretty much ignored him. Arm and Hammer is one of the cheapest brands. He would've had a stroke if I would've told him to get some Tide or All temperature Cheer.

He didn't buy any more detergent after that.

It wasn't that he didn't care or anything...

It's just that he went on active duty with the military a month later.

So when I wash clothes, I think of the boy, and our little "discussion" about him doing his part in the household...

I surely wish he was here now so I could yell at him!


Miss you, little boy:)