Climbing A Mountain

At any given time, on top of work deadlines and homework supervision and keeping the mental calendar of who is where and when, I also need to keep mental track of where each piece of laundry that belongs to each person is at any given time.
Wednesday evening I scrambled around looking for the baseball uniform for Thursday’s game. I folded 1282 pieces of clothing, matched 42 dozen socks and emptied basket after basket. Husband thinks it’s in the washer or dryer, but I *knew* I hadn’t seen it. An hour later, I’m pulling sheets out of the closet to change the linens and I see it: jammed in a small cardboard box under the desk.
WHY? For the love of all things holy, why why why would a 9 year old put several pieces of dirty laundry in a BOX under his DESK? WHYYYYY?
On the plus side, having the uniform located is half the battle – it means we will probably still be late for the game, but you won’t be nearly as late as if I hadn’t already found the uniform.
I never knew how much of parenting would be locating things. Like, ALL THE THINGS.