My Clothes are Getting Lazy

Dear Clothes,

What is going on these days, Clothes? I think you've changed.

I remember a time, not so long ago, when you would cheerfully hop out of the hamper, trot downstairs and tumble into the washer. The jeans would jump in with some detergent, the dress shirts would adjust the dial, and the sweaters would close the lid.

You were such a great team, Clothes. The underwear would keep an eye on the socks so they wouldn't escape from the dryer, and the T-shirts would comfort the pajama pants during the spin cycle. You had a buddy system for the trip from the washer to the dryer, and you all had such a great time tumbling around together.

Then you'd parade back upstairs, marching in proud, clean lines, to find your homes again on hangers and in drawers.

I never actually saw this process, but I assume that's how it must have happened. The stained, wrinkled heap of old clothes magically reappeared nicely folded and hanging ready to serve again.

But Clothes, you have changed. You are despondent and depressed, laying around in the hamper for days. You ignore your dirt, your creases, your odors, and do nothing about it. Is it something I said? Something I did? Have I not paid enough attention to you, Clothes?

Now I must haul you down to the washer myself, move you from washer to dryer to basket to drawer without any help from you, Clothes. What has happened to you, Clothes?

Sincerely,
Mr. Superhero

P.S. Clothes, it doesn't have anything to do with this, does it?