I caught my partner, Jake, folding the towels in his signature style yet again. For him, the “right” way means folding them in half lengthwise, then crosswise, and cramming them into the cupboard. My stepson, Liam, seems to have adopted this method too. However, I prefer folding towels in a trifold—first in half crosswise, then again, bringing both sides in. This creates a neat, organized look and allows us to fit three stacks into our small cabinet.
Why does Jake insist on folding the towels that way? Is this some sort of passive-aggressive tactic to drive me up the wall? Are the two of them conspiring against me, forming a boys’ club to undermine my organizational system? Or is it simply forgetfulness? Have we not had numerous discussions about my preferred folding method and how well it fits the cabinet? Is he doing this on purpose, or is it just a simple oversight?
Then there’s Liam. Is this teenage defiance? A deliberate act of pushing my buttons? Is he even paying attention to my requests? Are they both in cahoots?
As I ponder this, I can’t help but remember how Jake’s ex-wife used to fold towels. Perhaps they are both clinging to a way of life that is no longer theirs. This is my home, and I have my own system for folding towels. After all the chaos we’ve navigated together—the lawyers, custody battles, and the small skirmishes over lunch boxes and phone chargers—I refuse to argue about towels.
Earlier this week, I lugged a basket of wet laundry from the back porch, where the washer lives, to the kitchen, where the dryer is squeezed in next to the stove. I dumped the laundry into the dryer, cleared the lint trap, and set it to run. Days passed before those towels were folded; they sat neglected while we scoured the house for clean ones.
When I finally got around to it, I found a pile of freshly dried towels waiting for me. My cat, Bella, immediately claimed the warm mound as her throne, luxuriating in her newly discovered kingdom. There’s something undeniably satisfying about folding towels—seeing them stacked neatly like books in a library. It’s mindless work that brings a sense of order amidst the chaos of daily life.
Yet some days, I’m too busy to fold towels. When I leave it to Jake or set it as a task for Liam before they can dive into their video games, their inability to replicate my folding style becomes a source of irritation.
I finally confronted Jake, my tone sharper than intended, asking why he folds the towels in his way. I braced myself for the familiar response about how his ex-wife used to do it. Instead, he surprised me with a revelation: “Honestly, my mom folded them that way.”
My irritation lessened a bit. I was about to make some snide remark when he continued: “If it were up to me, I’d roll them.”
I couldn’t help but picture my mother’s linen closet, filled with neatly rolled towels in vibrant colors from her wedding gifts. I’d never considered rolling towels; I had always folded them. Reflecting on this made me realize I had been holding onto a tradition rooted in someone else’s family, long past its relevance.
When I shared this realization with Jake, it became clear that the towel-folding standoff was not worth the energy. I still prefer the look of my method, and they certainly fit better in our cabinet, but I now understand there’s no hidden agenda behind their folding.
As for the towels? I’ve decided it’s not a battle worth fighting. Life is too short to be stressed about linen organization.
If you’re interested in home insemination, check out our other blog post for valuable insights! For more tips about becoming a parent and navigating the journey, you can visit Make a Mom for expert advice. Additionally, Parents offers great resources for those considering their first IUI.
Summary
Emma reflects on the comical yet frustrating towel-folding habits of her partner, Jake, and stepson, Liam, contrasting them with her preferred method. Through a light-hearted exploration of family dynamics and the significance of traditions, she ultimately realizes that the battle over how towels are folded isn’t worth the stress.