When I was a little kid, I would help my mom put away the folded laundry. When I put away my dad's underwear, it was always folded into neat stacks and placed into the drawer in an orderly fashion. My mom's underwear drawer was always just a jumble of underwear thrown in willy-nilly. When I was an adult, I figured this was because after years of marriage and raising five kids my mother had subjugated herself into thinking she was not worthy of an orderly panty drawer. I've held on to that thought for a lot of years and still cringe when my panty drawer gets unruly.
Now as a wife and mother myself, I see how it happens. You just can't do it all, so when it comes to yourself, you just let the small shit slide. The fact that I have obsessed over my parents' underwear drawers for this many years now seems ridiculous. Sometimes a messy drawer is just a messy drawer. I bet she spent the time she saved by not folding her undies drinking a Diet Rite while talking on the phone with one of her sisters. Sounds like a much better use of time. But part of me still wishes my dad's drawer had been a jumble of undies, too.