airing my [clean] laundry

i’m folding clean laundry. it looks like something pink exploded all over my house. it looks like at least seventeen girls live here. this isn’t nearly the half of it. my poor husband. this place is overflowing with aveline’s and my clothes — stuck in limbo somewhere between washed and folded and to-be-tried-on and to-be-given-away and to-be-stored. there are the boxes of my own clothes that i’ve begun to unpack, then quickly abandoned upon the discovery that nothing fits. there are the piles of aveline’s clothes that she’s outgrown and not-quite-grown-into. there is the ever-growing laundry basket, since aveline makes certain that she and i change clothes at least twice a day. and then there’s the diaper laundry. oh, and i guess josiah needs clean clothes occasionally, too ;-) did i mention i’m thankful for indoor laundry facilities?