Laundry Basket

(Sitting casually in front of the couch, the lime green plastic laundry basket seems quite relaxed and ready to accept anything I throw at it.)

Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to sit with us.

My pleasure. (I was immediately startled by his deep, gravelly voice. I certainly was not expecting a laundry basket to sound like Lionel Stander [see TCM.com].)

Can you briefly describe what a typical day is like for you?

Well, most days I simply relax in the pool in the Master Bathroom.

There is a pool in the Master Bathroom?

Why, yes, of course. My pilots typically refer to it as a bathtub.

Pilots? Who are they?

We Laundry Baskets refer to the humans who transport us from room to room as "pilots." You see, we do actually fly wherever we go.

Yes, I see.

My busy days, however, typically begin with a very short flight out of the pool. After a hard landing on the floor, the cargo is loaded - most often over-loaded - and off we go for a short flight downstairs to the Spa. There, my cargo is unloaded into the Therapeutic Massage Machine, and I rest on top.

Therapeutic Massage Machine?

Certainly. The tranquil sound of swishing water accompanies the gentle vibrations and quite honestly, I often find myself dozing. Once or twice the massages were incredibly brisk and I actually toppled off and landed upside down on the floor - quite an uncomfortable position, I must say.

Gee, that's a shame.

But it's oh-so-nice when the sauna begins. It gets cozily warm with just a hint of moisture in the air. And the hum generated by the sauna machine...well, it's almost transcendental.

Sounds very relaxing. What happens next?

Usually I'm abruptly flown down to the floor again, but it's worth it because this time my cargo is nice and warm and it feels so comforting. Then I'm flown out of the Spa into the Talking Box Room - where we are now, actually.

You mean the den?

Oh, is that what pilots call it? I've never been in here when the Talking Box was quiet and dark. Look - it's showing pictures even now, though there seems to be no sound coming from the pilots on the screen. (At this point, I grabbed the remote and hit the "off" button.) Oh my! Did you do that?

Yes. It's quite simple, really. You just....

What power! Imagine if I and my cousins had the Object Gathering Extensions that you pilots have. (Just then I thought I heard the remote groan, but surely I must have been mistaken.) Oh well. Anyway, then my pilot dumps my cargo on the Cushioned Raised Floor and proceeds to flatten it and then replace it. It seems a very odd thing to do, but who am I to pass judgment? Then I'm flown back upstairs, where I am usually placed on one of three Sleeping Platforms and my cargo is again emptied. I am then placed back in the pool.

One last question: you're green, but you're not actually "green." Does this bother you at all?

"Green is in the eye of the beholder," is what I say. Though I may not biodegrade as quickly as my natural cousins, my pilots use my older brothers and sisters to hold toys, papers, recyclables and other objects. So, even though we may be old and unable to fly anymore, our pilots still make us feel useful. What more could you ask?