In less than six months from now, my eldest child will be 18. While this astounds me on so many levels, this blog entry isn't really about her.
It is about a laundry basket...
"A laundry basket!?!" I can hear people asking (in stereo, or, at least unison)...
Yes.. A laundry basket.
I was in High School when I became pregnant with my eldest daughter. I had to switch schools because the one I went to didn't have a teen parent program. The way the program worked, was supposed to teach us things about parenting, life, etc... Anyways, it was around Christmas time, I believe, and I think it was after I had my daughter. However, it may have been while I was still pregnant, I can't remember. This organization or church group (maybe) came in and brought "care packages" for each of us. The packages had things in them like baby oil, diaper wipes, and a handmade something. I can't recall what it was, a hat or blanket, etc... but there was a handmade something that I really wanted more than any of the others. I got it. These care packages were cleverly made up in cheap Dollar Store laundry baskets. The one I got was orange. I didn't really care for orange, but it wasn't the basket I was after, it was the handmade item... Obviously, that handmade item has been long forgotten; the laundry basket ~ not so much. In the last 18 years I have gotten married and had 2 additional children, not to mention the couple of room mates I've had that also had kids. I have bought numerous laundry baskets, ranging from cheap to moderately expensive. Due to massive abuse, wear and tear, and misuse, not a single one has lasted or stayed in tact for more than a couple of months. All except 1. My cheap orange laundry basket that housed the care package 18 years ago. If I knew then, what I know now, I would have gone and stocked up on those baskets. My orange laundry basket probably would count as an antique as far as laundry baskets go. It is like the super hero of laundry baskets. As an additional note, just because I find it curious... Little did I know back then, that my future husband to be (my husband now) would become associated with the color orange. Let me explain that a little better. My husband didn't really like the color orange, but somehow people started associating him with orange. So now when people give him gifts, they usually look for orange colored stuff. He likes orange better now, thank goodness, but it seems kind of weird and coincidental to me that orange seems to have a running track in my history.
So, technically, in less than a year, my daughter could move out of the house. She won't, but legally, she could. In doing so, she could fill that orange laundry basket up and take it with her. It only seems right that it go with her when she goes. They are about the same age. And while it amazes me that I have a daughter who is almost legal to buy cigarettes (although, she better not) and lottery tickets, she could live to be 80-100 or older, barring anything tragic. The fact that my orange laundry basket has made it this long, really amazes me more than is probably normal and/or healthy!...
