(Here is Part One. We figured out how to turn off the second mystery alarm AND change the time for Daylight Savings, but it is still waking up everyone else in the house except for the person it is intended to wake up.)
Laundry hampers. We have a lot of them! And yet. They Do Not Work.
This is the hamper I share with my husband in our master bathroom. I bought it at Target a million years ago and it definitely used To Work. It's made up of three separate laundry bags so you can sort everything into separate loads of whites/darks/delicates/whathaveyou. Each bag has handles so you can carry them individually to the washer when full. It is right next to our shower and perhaps 10 steps from our closet, where most of our dressing and undressing happen.
THEREFORE, it should work.
But every since we moved to this house, my husband developed a weird quirk where he consistently tossed his clothes in a random floor pile JUST OUTSIDE the bathroom door. Sometimes I would watch him come OUTSIDE the bathroom to do this, despite the hamper being THERE! IT'S RIGHT THERE! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?
After the pile grows into a mini-mountain, he carries it all back into the bathroom and dutifully sorts it all into the proper laundry bag.
He admits he has no idea why he does this. It's perhaps some strange muscle memory from the hamper's placement at our old house, but after THREE YEARS you'd think he'd be able to rewire his brain to handle a simple CLOTHES + HAMPER (IS THAT A HAMPER Y/N)² = BASIC ADULTING equation. He knows it's weird and makes no sense, but he's a really good cook so this is the cross I bear in exchange for not having to make my own risotto.
I also bought him a second hamper and placed it directly in the line of clothes-tossing fire.
Surprise! It Does Not Work.
And unfortunately, my children have all apparently inherited their father's hamper-blindness gene. They each have their own easy-to-carry hamper, and are TECHNICALLY responsible for bringing said hamper down to the laundry area as soon at it gets full, and then carry it back to their room once I've emptied it. This, of course, also Does Not Work.
The space where a hamper should be, used to be, but is not, anymore. Where is the hamper? We do not ask such questions, because the answer is: Duh, literally sitting right outside his door. Where it has been for a week. Empty.
Who needs a proper hamper when you can just toss everything on top of a random Bilibo? It's called IMAGINATION, Mom. Look it up.
There actually IS a hamper in this photo, at least. Ike and I apparently have very, very different definitions of what a "full" hamper looks like.
(Also, WTF is this? Another random floor pile? Who's getting undressed out in the middle of the hallway? If I put a hamper here will you stop?)
(If anyone needs me today, I will be doing laundry. So, so much laundry.)
The good news is that we went to IKEA this weekend! And bought all sorts of Ingënious Störage Solûtions for their soon-to-be reconfigured bedrooms, so OBVIOUSLY, all of our problems are going to be solved forever.
Just as soon as I find my hex key.