A Mother’s Apology to Her Son

The following request appeared in the Atlantic Monthly “Word Fugitive” column:

“I’m looking for a word for the items of clothing which sit perched in my bedroom, waiting to be reworn. They are not yet ready for the laundry bin (since I plan to rewear them), but they are no longer suitable for the wardrobe (which I reserve for clean clothes). I assume others keep their lightly worn clothes in a similar purgatory?”

My submission to The Atlantic follows:

First, an apology to my son, who has been leaving what I mistakenly thought were dirty clothes, in numerous mounds around the house. I am sorry for accusing you of being a slob.

 

Tweener Duds

I am sorry for pressuring you with my hope that you would change once you went to college.

I’m sorry that I expressed my disappointment, when upon our first visit, I saw the usual mound in front of the bunk bed, where not only you but your unfortunate roommate had to step on or around the clothes hill.

I am not sure what finally possessed me to inquire  ”Why do you do this when the clothes hamper is within reach?”

Your answer informed me that you are a young man with a strategy, and one who has systems in place that are well beyond what I might envision.

I apologize for accusing you of making up a lame excuse when you explained that these clothes were “tweener-duds” and therefore:

  1. Not clean enough to be in the company of freshly laundered items, for which you reserve the closet,  but
  2. Not dirty enough to have earned a position in the dirty laundry basket.

I see now they are “limbo wear,” and you are among the proud and the few who share a system of fine distinctions between the various stages of dirtiness. Silly me, for having only two categories – clean and dirty.

For the purposes of texting, I suggest we call them 2clean4laundry and 2dirt4closet. The really big piles will simply be called Himalayers.

With new found respect and a heart-fely apology,
Love Mom

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