by Darla Jones

GUEST COLUMNIST

Attention my school-aged children: There is school for you on Monday.

I know it says on our calendar that is stuck to the fridge "NO SCHOOL," but this has now been overwritten. Monday is now (read my article) a m-a-k-e-u-p day.

Do you remember way back when -- in February -- when every other child in every other school district in the state of Utah envied you because you were snowed in and you played all day in 3 feet of snow while they had to go to school? I hear the echoing words my father, "It all comes out in the wash." Well children, here it is. Washday is Monday. And those other kids from those other districts? They're not so jealous of you now. Nope, not one little bit.

And so my motherly point to you today is I am sick and tired of what's coming out in the wash. Daily loads of laundry can break down the laundering defenses of a mother with one or more children.

Okay, so I'm human! I forget to check pockets and sometimes things -- rocks, wood chips, cars, lip balm, crayons, pencils, candy wrappers, Scout pins, a cell phone -- end up in the wash.

I forget to turn clothes inside out. I even sometimes forget that a white T-shirt can get stuck in a new, red shirt. Results: a new, pink undershirt. Could you wear it in the boy's locker room?

There are piles and piles. A never-ending story: whites and lights and darks and towels. And how does everything else suddenly end up in the hamper once I've sorted and washed and dried the separated loads?

And we're not even talking socks! I've thrown away five singletons because of irreparable holes (darn it). And currently I have 15 lonely socks without its pair, waiting for the day the dryer will be merciful and spit them out. No two pairs are the same color, because even though they are whiteish, they each have had their dark days (ha ha).

Which brings me to "An Ode to Laundry" by a mother with children:

O Laundry, when will my children learn to love you?

To hold you? And fold you? And put you carefully away?

On Monday, while they are wistfully remembering their gleeful day in the snow,

Help them to remember that it all comes out in the wash.

Darla Jones has lived in Tooele for nine years. She has eight children and loves chocolate.