Hanging Out

I think, there's a very good reason why my tummy is still small.

One of my favouritest chores in the whole wide world is hanging out the newly-washed clothes in the hot sun.

And I'm very particular about that. I want the clothes to be hung a certain way. For example, on days when I wash the coloured clothes, I'll make sure that all the red clothes are on one pole, all the blacks on another et cetera et cetera et cetera. The anal-retentive person that I am will also make sure that on each pole, only the same-coloured and type of clothes pegs are used. My husband used to find this so amusing and he would purposely annoy me by changing some of the pegs after I'd hung the clothes out. (Yes, I know pstchologists/psychiatrists - can never figure out which is which - would love to use me as their subject.) Anyway, what's the point of me writing this down? Oh, I remember, the joys of hanging the laundry out. (Let me digress a bit further - my memory's failing me big time of late.)

Aaaaanyway, coming back to the main topic - I enjoy hanging out the laundry - just realised that I may be a control-freak and that's why I enjoy hanging the clothes just so. Digress digress digress. That's all I do.

Aaaaaaaanyway, really really coming back to the main point - now what was it? Argh! Forget it. I'm not even gonna try going back to it. I can't remember why I'm talking about this in the first place.