laundry is becoming more of a routine around here and less of a "dang, i need to do laundry or we won't have underwear" kind of thing. my friend gave us a book awhile back called" tap dancing on the roof" by linda sue park. it has sijo (poems) in it. one poem goes a little something like this:
laundry
i love sitting among the heaps of warm, soft, clean-smelling clothes.
my mom folds. i try to match socks, imagining them in Heaven:
cries of surprise, then celebration! joyful reunions!
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