I'm ashamed to say that I have uttered more than my fair share of whiny objections to doing the laundry in the past, and my friends have had to speak the truth in love to me about this on several accounts. I've been told that I should be thankful I have clothes to wear, and a houseful of loved ones to care for. They've pointed out to me that a load of laundry takes a mere 8 minutes to fold and put away. One friend even suggested to me that I should thank the Good Lord for every one of my family members and pray for their needs as I fold each piece of their clothing.
I've slowly taken these slaps on the wrist with a wet noodle to heart. I know darn good and well that I'm blessed beyond measure, and I've mostly quit bellowing about my loathe for laundry. Occasionally I catch myself gazing longingly out the window, fantasizing about working outside in the fresh air and sunshine. Then my mind whirls back to the17 socks sitting in front of me without a mate, and I go on a quest to find them under the beds and behind the couches.
But this is happening less, and less....that is, the fantasy of being outdoors, not the matchless socks. I do find myself being more content with the daily grind of housework.
In fact, this morning I pulled a new pair of my Christmas socks out of the laundry basket and actually laughed out loud.
These could quite possibly be the ugliest socks in my wardrobe and my husband gave me two pairs, with love, for Christmas. They are the perfect shade of Cream of Wheat with Oscar the Grouch green accents.
I absolutely LOVE them!
Do you know why I love them?
I love them because my sweetheart of a fella went to Western Drug and hand-selected them from a whole wall of socks with me in mind. He wanted to buy something heavy-duty to keep my feet warm in my boots during the long winter.
The same man who bought me this cowhide purse simply for its beauty...
also bought me two pairs of heavy duty work socks purely for their practicality. They're toasty, and soft, and never slip down when I'm wearing boots. Would I have picked them out for myself? Nope. I pay little mind to my socks, but my husband was looking out for me. I now wear them with pride and honor.
My husband not only treats me with special things that I want, but he also gets me the practical things that I need. He takes good care of me.
Every day, he crawls out of bed before dawn, puts his work clothes on, takes care of the livestock, and works hard outside in snow, rain, heat, and wind. He puts in an honest day's muscle to provide for his family at home, and I'm honored to wash his muddy Wranglers and filthy shirts. I'm thankful that because of his hard work, I can stay at home with our kids and take care of our house.
Whenever I start to grumble, I think about my abundant blessings and thank the Lord for things like my Oscar the Grouch green socks and for my husband who so thoughtfully picked them out with my comfort and needs in mind.
Folding Socks with a Smile,