When Pigpen was little she used to empty out her drawers to find one thing she wanted. Everything ended up on the floor. So her social worker suggested that we limit her room to 3 sets of clothes. She could wear that or nothing. Everything else got bundled up and locked up in the laundry room cupboard. My mother never threatened to take away our things if we didn’t pick them up. We would come home from school, she would hand us a garbage bag and tell us to fill it. Then it went to the good will for a needy boy or girl who would appreciate it more then us lazy good for nothing kids. If you hadn’t worn it, used it, or looked for it in 2 weeks obviously we were done with it and out the door it went. My mother always said she wasn’t a good enough housekeeper to allow us to collect anything. The only exception was laundry. The pile in the laundry room would get 3 feet high before someone would get down to it. Then we would all be responsible to take it to our rooms and fold it and put it away. My BFF would have a stack of clothes on a chair or the end of her bed, you could never tell what was clean or dirty. If that had been my room they would have long been out the door but her mother let her live like that. That is probably why I have such an attachment to things now. Psychiatrist today said I was a hoarder. What insight into the human psyche that man has. Of course as he is saying it he is rolling over papers below the chair at his desk. Pot meet kettle.
I don’t mind the washing, drying and folding of laundry but I am terrible at the putting away. It makes it onto the dresser or into a laundry basket but I rarely take the time to hang up clothes. Dryers make great irons, just toss a damp towel into the dryer with the shirts and good as a trip to the drycleaners. My stepmother loves to iron, she irons everything from underwear to sheets. Sick woman. But she does no other housework but laundry. The amount of cat hair would choke an elephant, but her sheets are stiff with spray starch. 😆
When we were kids my mother got tired of us always arguing about whose turn it was to load or unload the dishwasher and the dishes never made it past the sink. So she told us the dishwasher was broken. Now instead of 5 minutes loading or unloading we had to hand wash and dry everything and still had to gather the dishes and then put them away. And we had to use her system. Glasses first, then cutlery, then dishes and finally pots and pans. No tv until the dishes were done. Bathrooms also had to be shone to a gleam. Polished taps on top of everything else. My brother never had to do housework. While my sister and I had to clean everything he got to go fishing or out with his friends. But he had middle child syndrome and he still figures that he wasn’t loved as much as us. I would have loved to be as ill treated as him. 