Most Mondays, Husband does laundry, Dad and Mom come over, Dad folds all the clean clothes, and I put them away. It’s my least favorite night of the week. In between making dinner for the people, putting the laundry away as soon as possible is necessary because Wonder Twins and First Son love to knock over the piles of folded clothes. Kind of like how little kids like to kick piles of dried fall leaves. But what distresses me about Mondays is seeing how my dad organizes the laundry. The piles he organizes are all mixed-up — adult with children clothing interspersed, and everything folded in a loose, haphazard style. This is a man who was in the Air Force (AF), where he had three minutes to get ready for bed every night in the AF, who always shot me his military stink-eye whenever I showed up 15 minutes late to hang out (I was always late by at least 15 minutes), because I could never be as together as this fastidious gentleman.