pile of clothes

There is no better feeling in the world than putting on fresh, clean clothes. However, there is no worse chore than folding them. You curse at the socks that slipped through the “pre-wash” cracks and missed the inside-out-flip as you begrudgingly return them to their rightful orientation. And the kleenex that hid better than Anne Frank in your jean pocket? The one that lovingly left you with tiny pieces of snowflake-like flecks all over your clothes? You silently rejoice at its watery demise. It deserved its fate, but unfortunately you have to hand-pick its remains off the entire load of darks you just washed.