What am I going to do for dinner? How much sugar is in raisins? Is it too much sugar given how many of them Grayson eats? Swim is tomorrow. Are our suits clean? Are they even out of the car from last week? I wonder if raisins are high in iron. Grayson needs iron.
I pull another shirt out of the deep unending pile of clean laundry. So much folding. So much cleaning. Grayson crawls around my legs, rolling trucks over the rug. Occasionally he grabs for a piece of folded laundry and I sigh. I can feel myself sinking. The force of overwhelm exerting its will. I pull another piece of laundry from the pile, a large white sheet.
The sheet cracks as I shake it out. It sails over Grayson and settles over his head. Giggles fill the room. I smile. I send the sheet into flight again. Again a crack. Again laughter.
I abandon the mountain of laundry and form a fort. We crawl through tunnels, getting caught by the airy walls. Grayson peeks out and then hides again.
Folded laundry sits on the dresser. A hamper sits on the floor. We sit in our fort.