After I posted my list of 100 things about me a few weeks ago, I had a few comments from people about the fact that I admitted that I like to do laundry. My laundry, my roommate’s laundry, even my ex-boyfriend’s laundry — I like it all.

Side note: yesterday was my ex’s birthday. Naturally, I got him a gift and dropped it by his office. What can I say? My love language is giving gifts. When I came home and casually mentioned this to Katie, her jaw hit the ground. She informed me that you aren’t supposed to give birthday gifts to people you used to date. And then she told me that I’m no longer allowed to have any interaction with any male without first checking with her to make sure I’m not being ridiculous. And, to tell you the truth, I think it would be in all of our best interests if I did exactly what she tells me to do when it comes to the male species.

Moving on.

I’ve been a bit behind on laundry over the last week, mainly because I was out shopping for birthday gifts for all my ex’s busy getting ready for our last event. After putting a load of clothes into the wash, I came upstairs to find the following happening in my bedroom:

That’s right — Snuggles had turned over my laundry basket, climbed inside, and fallen asleep. After I took a few hundred pictures, I made him get out so I could get another load ready. When I came back upstairs, I found him in a new place:

Good thing my mother doesn’t read my blog or she’d be having a fit over the height of that pile of laundry.

I have also given up making my bed as Cuddles, my other puppy, seems to enjoy pulling my comforter off the bed and creating a little habitat for himself:

I can only hope that they’ll crawl into a vat of processed nacho cheese soon so I can quit doing that chore, too.