Clean? Or dirty?

She points to a plastic tub on the floor and says, "I don't know if those are clean or dirty. I guess I should just start over." In the tub are fluffy brown towels and a brown bed sheet. Next to the tub is an ironing board with a brown shirt on it. I consider the evidence thoughtfully. "Well," I say, "you obviously were ironing a brown shirt. It must have been clean. Everything in the tub is brown. My observation is that you typically go to the basement with dirty laundry that's all mixed up, and come back with clean laundry sorted by color. I think you separated all the brown stuff in the basement, washed it, then brought it back here. You stopped over there to iron the shirt. I say, these towels and this sheet are clean." That makes sense to her, so I go back to what I was doing.

Twenty minutes later, she says, "I guess I'm going to just wash this again. I don't know if it's clean or dirty." To which I say, "You know, it's all brown. That makes me think it's been sorted, washed, dried, and brought back here. So I say its clean." I take the shirt upstairs to hang it up. She disappears with the tub.

Several hours later she's back with the tub.

"I don't know if these are clean or dirty..."

"CLEAN!"

She takes the towels out and starts folding them on the couch. On about the third towel, she turns and says, "You know, I didn't ask to be like this..." There are tears on her cheeks.

But she was no longer asking if the laundry was clean or not.