Will the Laundry Ever Stop?

About ten years ago, a colleague of mine 
told me a story about his mom and how she wigged out one day doing
laundry. Apparently, Jerry was one of eight kids and his mother only 
did laundry once or twice a week. (Personally, that would set me over 
the brink of insanity. I've gotta keep it up daily so that I don't get 
overwhelmed. I digress.) 


So, Jerry said that he and his father were working on a vehicle in the
front yard. They heard the screen door slam and his mother came out
with her arms full of dirty laundry. She stormed over to the middle of the 
yard and dropped it in the grass. Then she went back in the house and 
repeated this process about three more times until the dirty clothes
were a small mountain up to her waist. Jerry and his father sort of 
ignored the behavior and went back to tinkering under the hood of the 
car. The last time the mother came out, she was in tears and striking 
matches and tossing them into the pile of clothes, screaming, "I CAN'T
TAKE IT! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I hate laundry day. It never 
ends!"


Jerry's dad had to grab hold of his wife and force the matches out 
of her hands while Jerry stomped the laundry to make sure all the 
flames were out. 


I'm just saying. I can relate.