I officially declare war on you. You are trying to take over my house. You and your piles. Well, I am sick of the piles! There are piles of folded clothes that are clean, piles of unfolded clean clothes, piles of "for sure" dirty clothes, piles of clothes that might be dirty, and then piles that I have no idea where they came from or what they are. Enough is enough! I will drown in your filth (and possible filth)if I do not take action now. So here's my plan. If you are on the floor, you will go into the washing machine, no questions asked. I do not have the time or the energy to spend half my life smelling crotches and armpits. I don't care if I will be wasting water and detergent. It is a price I am willing to pay. I might have to put away more clean clothes, but if my only pile is a ginormous clean one, then at least I can contain it in one area and there is no mystery. I love suspense and surprises, but in a good book or movie, NOT from a urine-stained pair of jeans, thank you very much.
The Queen of the House