she coulda been a millionaire
So, my sister and I have been spending an insane amount of time together recently, with kids, and without. Being together with the kids during the day is different: I am usually the one taking them to school everyday and spending time with them before she gets back from work. But since the last few days have been spent in my parents' home, waiting for phone calls from Toronto, we've been talking a lot more, about life and other trivialities. We've been able to see our similarities and differences in each other.
My sister is the opposite of me in many ways. She's such an anal person, very Type A. She gets things done, and is highly productive. I, sadly, am a slacker. A dreamer. A little disorganized. We shared the same thought however, when it came to latching onto opportunity. We have both been sneaking loads of laundry to my parents' home.
I'm the kind of laundress who throws in reds with whites, blacks with pink, and blues with yellows. Kole and I wear sturdy, cotton fabrics and I haven't ironed an item of clothing since my cousin's wedding last year. Kole rarely has matching socks, to my mother's mortification. I don't either, but still wear my shoes in the house so she can't see that I am the same way. My sister is a perfectionist with her laundry: all sharply precise creases, and soft items that have been produced by sucessfully timing the moment for fabric softener fluid. Her and Skylar's socks are paired up, then rolled into tiny balls. All items are folded neatly for the journey home, where clothing is nested in dresser drawers. My clothing is stuffed into many army bags, with no sense of order. Ours wind up in little piles on chairs, desks, and nighttables in our house; easily accessed for hurried mornings.
My sister found 4 lotto tickets in the washing machine, faded into unreadable blurs. She had forgotten to remove them from her pants pocket. That's something that I habitually do; lose important words on scraps of paper to water and soap, and the spin cycle. I've ruined clothing with lipstick left in pockets, and have had pens explode ink onto my favorite orange fleece. It's strange when my sister steps into my territory of laundry mishaps. She could have been a millionaire.