The Mayor hates sorting laundry. If a garment can't hack it with everything else, there are serious doubts whether such a garment should be in the closet in the first place. The Mayor came home today and as he was sorting several loads of clean laundry he had washed last night (in large, unsorted loads as is his way), he picked up a beautiful, large purple shirt and started tearing up, thinking how fast his little girl is growing up.
Then he found another one of her beautiful, very large purple shirts.
And another.
And more purple towels and socks than his pink-loving girl could possibly own.
And that is the story of how the Mayor learned to sort laundry.
