Jane
This is Jane. This is Jane's blog. Jane hopes to amuse you, nudge you to do something productive, encourage you to take a second look, think out of the box, ponder the universe. Enjoy!-
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This is Jane. This is Jane's blog. Jane hopes to amuse you, nudge you to do something productive, encourage you to take a second look, think out of the box, ponder the universe. Enjoy!
Theycallmejane's Blog 
Haha! This is so funny! I made our daughter take over her laundry the day that she graduated from high school. Our son, who is five years younger than his sister, volunteered to start doing his laundry that same week (so considerate). Maybe they figured out that Mom is not the “Laundry Queen”, and they could do it better.
Laundry was always my Dad’s job. 🙂
I love it!
I admit, I trained my boys well… They may wait until the very (very very very) last minute, but they do do their own laundry. (Most of the time. But then there are the sheets, the dirty socks I find months later under furniture… what’s up with that?)
Lucky you! I suppose it’s all my fault by #1daughter brings home a boatload of laundry every time she comes home. Every. Time. And guess who washes it? Yep. Moi.
I loved the videos you shared a while back and have just seen this latest version: http://youtu.be/KSjsOeC6OcE. 🙂
Love it, love it, LOVE IT! Every time I pick my favorite (the lady shimmying while she knits, the two young girls, the lip-syncing grandma) I find a new favorite. This is so cute! Thanks for sharing!
It certainly seems to be a trend at the moment, I hadn’t even heard of the song before you shared those videos! But this one is so much fun. 🙂
My Mom gave us each our own responsibility for laundry as soon as we were tall enough to reach the knobs (they were at the back of the washers and dryers back then)…I don’t remember her ironing, though I think she must have for Dad’s shirts…
My mother does know how to do it and I really wish she had taught me OR we lived next door to one another.
Love this! My grandsons love to save their torn stuffed animals or ripped jeans for my visits. I confess, so do I.