Once upon a time a laundry fairy lived at my house. While I toiled at work, she gathered, washed, dried, folded and hung our clothes.

I never actually got to see her, but always imagined she wore a sparkly lavender dress and hummed as she flitted around the house working her magic. Her skills were amazing – even with the occasional stray glitter. We always looked clean, presentable and well pressed.

She went missing last November and our home hasn’t been the same since.

Disaster all around

Jimmy crossed his arms, scowled and gave me a stern look. Uh oh, this couldn’t be good.

It took another minute before his consternation erupted into words. “I can’t take this. It’s just ridiculous.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“This is making me crazy, insane.”

“What does?”

“This house!” He pointed to the laundry room. “Just look at that.”

A pile of Craig’s shirts and shorts were balled up on top of the dryer, clean but wrinkled and wilted. An hour of fluffing in the dryer wouldn’t help them – they’d have to be ironed or rewashed.

Three hampers rested on the floor overflowing with darks, reds and whites. There was a pile of towels on the floor. Interspersed amongst the mess was doggy kibble. Against the back wall were two filled-to-heaping garbage cans. If I looked in the washer I’d be sure to find a load of forgotten towels simmering and stinky, and the dryer contained a larger-than-should-be-allowed load of my work clothes.

I knew that because I fluffed them and chose an outfit from there every morning that week.

He had a point. “Well, yes … It is a mess.”

My concession didn’t calm him. “The rest of the house is just as bad.”

Again, he was right. Craig’s toys were scattered across both living rooms and the hallway. Jay had a glass, various wrappers and scattered crumbs next to the monitor on the computer desk. The movies on the media shelf were in disarray. And who knows what the dogs had dragged in and chewed into a pile behind the couch.

“Yes, it’s a disaster.” I said and hesitated. “But, you know it can’t be like before.”

Oh the beauty of before, when the laundry fairy lived with us. More often than not, when she was done sparkling and folding, she’d pick up around the house and wash the dishes. I missed her like crazy cakes and wished she’d come home.

Jimmy grunted. I wasn’t sure if it was begrudging affirmation or muffled denial.

“We get up before five. You go to work. I write and then go to work. We’re not home until after six. Most weekends I’m writing on some sort of deadline – when do we have time? When?”

Jimmy shook his head.

“With both of us working, this house will never look like it did when you were a stay-at-home dad.” Heck, truth be told, the house never looked that good a decade ago when I was a stay-at-home mom.

Jimmy opened his mouth to talk and then closed it. He looked defeated.

I couldn’t have that. “Hey, we can do better.” I scrambled — what could we do? Oh yeah, we could include the kids. “How about we each have a room?”

That perked him up. “What do you mean?”

He bit, he was interested. “Every night Jay could be responsible for picking up the two front rooms. Craig could be pseudo-responsible for putting his toys away. I’ll cook dinner, make sure the laundry room is picked up and the dining room. … You could do the dishes and help out with the common laundry like towels and Craig’s clothes.”

He nodded and appeared happier. “And Jay can take out the trash.”

Hah, I had his buy in! “Okay, and as for the bedrooms …”

Jimmy interrupted. “I don’t care about the bedrooms – no one sees those but us. I only care about the front of the house.”

Good thing because if you thought the laundry room was bad …

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