Dear Family,
Thanks for unanimously voting me, for the tenth consecutive year, head laundry mistress. My track record obviously speaks for itself in terms of my superior sock-matching abilities, and my attention to detail has prevented many a would-be catastrophe (minus that unfortunate blue crayon incident. Oh, and the infant diaper gel-bead crisis). My careful discernment has also reduced detergent overhead; that is, I have taken great pains to avoid re-washing clean clothing that “accidentally” was thrown back in rather than shelved.
You’re welcome.
I have clearly demonstrated my physical aptitude concerning my responsibilities: my superbly narrow forearms are well suited to the task of reversing every single inside-out item (82% of all clothing), including, but not limited to, dirty sweat socks and over-pooped toddler PJs.
I am honored that you have entrusted me with the awesome responsibility of whitening your whites. If I knew how bleach worked, that is. Which I don’t. But I firmly believe that greying socks show character.
I greatly appreciated the compensations that you have kindly offered in response to my diligence. My humble request is that I would prefer my tips to be placed ON the washing machine rather than IN it (paper $ takes awhile to dry). I accept bills and change, but no more Play-Doh, PLEASE.
Thanks,
Management
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