My daughter is a rummager–or so I thought. I used to fold all of her clothing methodically (my husband, incidentally, is a far better folder–my mother in law should be very proud.) I would then stack them neatly on top of one another in her drawers. The next day, inevitably, the drawers would look like a cyclone struck.

It’s not that she’s exactly messy–she’s simply a rummager. She wants to wear what she wants to wear when she wants to wear it. If it’s not on top, she’ll search. And search.

My daughter has other really wonderful qualities, so I wasn’t going to make her feel bad about this one. She’s a creative sort and sometimes that takes the form of a tornado. I get it.

Last year, when I was on a house organizing kick, I purchased a book called “The Beverly Hills Organizer’s Home Organizing Bible,” by Linda Koopersmith. Linda has Lazy Susans in her refrigerator. Linda has bike hoists. Linda has rafter solutions. In short, Linda and I have nothing in common.

Until now.

I perused through, once again, to see what I could be doing better. I look through the book about once a month or so just to make myself feel inadequate. This time, I reread the section about folding clothes.

Linda suggests that you stack shirts in a drawer horizontally instead of vertically. If they were a book, the spine would be facing up, giving a birds eye view, enabling you to find any shirt in seconds. Who would do this? I thought. A flash of my daughter’s drawers came to mind and immediately, Linda went from neurotic to brilliant. My problem was solved.

I went upstairs, completely refolded my daughter’s t-shirt drawer and while I was at it, tackled her shorts and pajama drawers too. I then did the same to my son’s drawers. My son isn’t a rummager, but he was wearing about a tenth of what was in the drawers so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

The next day, my kids were elated with their new system. After they went off to camp, I surveyed the damage. Other than the one missing shirt, my daughter’s t-shirt drawer was perfect.

Tornado averted, crisis solved–now I may need to buy a Lazy Susan for my refrigerator.