Home.  It’s nice to be home.

Back home after a 10 day road trip through Canada.  We had an amazing time. We put 1600 miles on the car and what felt like 600 miles on our feet.    We saw a lot of sights, ate a lot of food, had a lot of fun,  met a lot of people, and now we are home.  Ahhh, home.

The first thing I did when I unpacked the car last night was bring the hefty bag full of dirty laundry down to the basement. Time to catch up. 

I threw a very large load of clothes into the washing machine and headed upstairs to unpack and unwind.   I moved them to the dryer about an hour later and threw a second load in the washer.  When I went down a while later to remove them, they weren’t dry yet because the load was too big.   I peaked into the dryer and I saw some black spots on one of the lighter colored shirts.  Uh oh. 

I opened up the dryer and there it was. A pen.  A pen was in someone’s pocket. And now there were ink stains on everything in the machine.  Which was basically every item of clothing that I owned. 10 days worth of summer clothes. All of the girls’ shorts and tank tops. Everything.  Sigh.

I took them out. Spot treated the big spots, transferred the other clothes to the dryer, and placed the entire load back into the washer.   I’m going up to bed.  

This morning John told me he had put the clothes in the dryer and thrown another load in the wash before I woke up.   Nice! Now we’re almost caught up. 

When I went downstairs and opened the washing machine to take them out, everything was pink.  Every white sock, every white t-shirt, pink.  Everything. Sigh. 

I’m sure there are lessons to be learned from this. Maybe it’s a metaphor. I don’t know. Whatever. I’ll just be covered in scribbles and pink for a while.

It’s nice to be home.