Sawdust and Urine: Part 5

In my entire adult life, I have never spoken the following words: man am I excited to get going on that laundry! Nor should anyone ever really say those words in that order (because that means you've sunk to a shocking level of mundanity)...but, tonight it happened. I arrived home from work to discover that our mild-mannered (but secretly he-man, super-human) construction worker had single-handedly hoisted our stackable dryer unit onto it's washer counterpart to essentially complete our laundry closet. I imagine some traded services will be necessary when they discover the herniated discs in his spine someday down the road, but until then...man, am I excited to get going on that laundry!  

Addendum: folding and putting away is still a son of a b*tch. 

Jusf look at that beauty! We're gonna be fast friends. Which is good, because nobody is potty trained yet, and there is certainly an infinite number of soiled pants looming in our future. 

Here's my favorite part...

That, dear readers, is a real-life, bona fide laundry chute. As a child, I have fond memories of misusing our family's laundry chute and at least one vague recollection of the startled shriek of a feline plummeting two stories into a pile of dirty laundry. My only hope is that we can find a door to secure to the top of the chute that is at least slightly smaller than our youngest child. 

#majorupgrade

Meanwhile, upstairs....

...The bathroom project limps along into its fifth week. And let me just say, living in a home with copious amounts of dust and no shower is the sort of luxurious living that we hope never actually ends. But with a little gentle nudging and a few strongly worded emails (or possibly just the natural passage of what I am now acknowledging to be it's own branch of the space-time continuum, 'contraction time') we have finally have scored some visible progress.

Houston, we have walls. 

...And even some tile! 

And what's that?? A tub!?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I get to go move the laundry.