Moths have taken a liking to our clothes lately.
The weird thing is that we never notice each other while I’m outside folding the laundry. How is it that I don’t notice these huge grey moths clinging to our clothes? How is it that they continue clinging to our clothes instead of flying away when I shake the wrinkles out?
I don’t know. All I know is that when I went to diaper Miriam the other day I almost diapered her up with one of those aforementioned huge grey moths. Seriously.
I spread out the diaper and laid her on top and had started folding it over before I noticed the thing. And it was huge.
Then today? I folded the laundry—all one-handed since Miriam wanted to be held—and brought the laundry basket full of sundry sun-dried clothes inside. Since I had to immediately take a wet load out to hang up (and since half the clothes were Rachel’s and since I didn’t want to disturb her because she was napping (because she stayed up until midnight and then got up at 3 AM and then got up at 7:30 AM)) I flipped the basket over on the bed in the guest room to make a pile, sand-castle style, of neatly folded clothes.
Seconds after doing so I was struck with a big, feathery, grey blob—at first I thought it was a bird, it was that big—but then I saw the perpetrator. It was another moth.
I must have folded it up in some article of clothing and caged it up inside the laundry basket where it laid in wait to attack me.
Add to this the experience I had a few weeks ago when I reached my hand into the detergent container to scoop out some detergent and noticed there was a creepy jumping spider inside wiggling its mandibles at me and it’s almost enough to make me give up washing our clothes.
I mean, if I am washing our clothes with spiders and then putting them outside to collect dust and moths, what’s the point?
The point is to remind you how much you want to come home.
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