I have raised all four of my children to get undressed and drop their clothes on the floor.
From muddy soccer shorts to sweat-drenched dance tops, they are all removed from the body and literally dropped directly beneath them.
Sometimes the clothes even fall in order of how they have been removed.
The socks on the bottom, then the shorts, then the undies then the t-shirt.
And I must have done a great job in teaching my little darlings to do this because regardless of their ages, it is always consistently done.
With a sigh, I begin most days asking for the washing to be picked up and put in the laundry.
This first request results in moving the clothes from the day before in need of washing to the corner of their bedrooms.
Grateful for small mercies, at least it is now all in a pile.
it's a big smelly pile often mixed in with a few clean clothes they couldn't be bothered putting away.
It's amazing how children think it's less effort to throw clean clothes back into the wash rather than open a draw!
My second request for the clothes from the day before to be put in the laundry results in the smelly pile in the corner of the bedroom moving to outside the laundry door.
Yep that's right - outside the laundry door - which in our house is at the bottom of our staircase.
The same pile is now not-so-neatly mounted up as it has obviously been thrown down the stairs.
It now resembles a puddle spilling out across the landing.
The entire family steps over the washing without batting an eyelid as we make our way to the kitchen for breakfast.
The filthy, smelly, spread-out pile is now only metres away from the washing basket in the laundry.
If it could walk there by itself, it would take five seconds.
So close and yet so far.
I don't seem to be able to explain to my kids that washing outside a laundry door is not going to get washed.
In the scheme of things this is not a global problem.
However, the screaming and crying and running from room to room when school socks can't be found would lead you to believe otherwise.
Sheer panic sets in when the discovery is made that it's sport day and the sports socks didn't quite make it to the washing basket.
It must be said I take great joy in calmly advising these frantic little beings that perhaps they should look through the pile of clothes just metres away from the washing machine that never actually made it.