By Michael Cole

I hate doing the laundry.

Let me elaborate on that.

I really, really, really, really hate doing laundry.

It’s not just because it seems that no matter how hard you try, you can never quite get them folded or ironed right that bugs me.

Though I have tried everything from folding clothes right out of the dryer to using a steamroller to get that good crease. It still doesn’t work, because the darn legs don’t line up, or the sleeves are off a little and it looks terrible.

It is also not that no matter what you do, there is always that single color piece of clothing that makes it into the whites and turns your white socks into pink socks.

On that, I am not quite sure if fruit of the loom doesn’t have a ghost red sock that stays white until you bleach it. Only then does it change colors so you have to go buy more socks and towels.

I never really trusted grown guys dressed as apples and grapes.

And it is not the fact that you can’t just lump permanent press, colors, and everything else into the washer and go off.

I swear honey, I did not know that delicates would dissolve like that when tossed in with other clothes. I really didn’t even know the other buttons did anything.

I thought you just needed the start button.

I am sure they still sell that vintage lacy work shirt that you looked high and low and years for. I’ll Google it later.

No. My pet peeve is far deeper than that; the never-ending piles.

I can do two loads of laundry today, and before I go to bed, there are two more magically in place.

I do not think we even own that many clothes. In fact, I am nearly positive that there is no way that we can dirty that much laundry that quickly.

I do have a theory about how that happens though.

Time travel.

You see, you are not just washing your clothes.

You are washing the clothes of people in the distant future as well.

My theory is that Maytag, LG, or some other washer manufacturer in the distant future had decided that most efficient washer to design was one that sent dirty clothes back in time to have us poor saps wash it.

The future person tosses the clothes into the future washer and they are transported to our laundry baskets. We toss them in the washer and then the dryer.

The dryer buzzer activates the time dilation porthole and the clothes go back to the future.

It explains two clothing paradoxes.

One, that missing sock. They are all sucked into the distant future.

Retro clothes. The reason retro clothes keep coming back is not because some hipster likes spending lots of money to look like an extra from a 80s sitcom.

It is because that is fashion in tomorrow world.

So, I am going to get a quick cup of coffee before doing a load of my great-great-great-grandchildren’s laundry.

Michael Cole is a syndicated columnist that when he is not writing, he is plotting global domination. You can follow him at www.storyoveracup.com