I am now on day three of digging my way through an unending tower of laundry. Every week, I get to the last load dirty clothes, only to find the hampers overflowing and the cycle (no pun intended) beginning once again. From all the clothes that are soiled, the article that most often makes its appearance is underwear. Not jeans or t-shirts or socks. Underwear! How can two boys go through so many pairs of Jockeys in a week?? Wherever I look, be it on the bathroom floor, the boys bedroom floor or bunched up under one of their pillows (ick!) there is a pair of brightly coloured underwear waiting to be rescued and laundered. What a difference from a few years ago when my boys refused to part with any tighty whities that came in contact with their little bottoms. At this point, child and underwear had melded into one and trying to remove the offending garment was akin to skinning them alive. It would take strategic planning in order to evacuate child from underwear. My strategy was to lure them into having a bath, with the promise of some desired water toy. Alright, it was blatant bribery, but it worked. After wrangling them into the tub, I would then engaged the “soak and scrape” method of cleaning and even if I couldn’t get the underwear off of them at that point, at least it got a washing when the child did. At least it was a load less of laundry. Ahhh, those were the days.