Life laundry

It's funny what the little things you do reveal about you. I always imagined my obsession with hanging my washing out in such an orderly fashion - by type, socks hanging in pairs - was just a bit of control freak-ism, a touch of OCD, a desperate attempt to give the illusion of control midst the chaos and unpredictability of life. Not that my life is especially chaotic - just life in general.

Badger hangs her washing out to different rules. Firstly, each item must have it's own personal space: no touching, no sharing clothes pegs. Ever. Secondly, items are hung the right way up, even if they have a hood and would dry much better upside down. Apparently they might get dizzy the wrong way up. Whilst I don't understand either of these rules, they don't actually upset me; what does cause me genuine distress is Badger's socks.

For starters, they aren't hung in pairs. But worse, frequently the other half of the pair is not there! I'm sure the second socks exist, just Badger doesn't see fit to wash and wear them in matching pairs.

I brought this up with Badger a few days ago. I was bringing her washing in and was feeling rather stressed by the number of unique socks, which I took to be a sign of carelessness and slipshod attitudes to the Rules of Socks (as I define them).

Badger smiled, as she does, and said "You think it is important for them to be with the things they belong with don't you?". I nodded and she carried on. "You see, I think it's important for things to be just fine on their own. They shouldn't be dependent on the other sock. They are ok just as single socks."

So, I draw the conclusion that my laundry is not afflicted with OCD, but codependency. I don't fear my clothes being out of order, I fear them being alone.

Ouch.