She's my little Godzilla, leaving destruction in her wake everywhere she goes. Folding laundry is the most obvious example, but emptying the dishwasher and putting away her toys are also prime targets for her decimation. She sees piles of neatly piles clothes and laughs maniacally as she zips towards them, grabs several shirts, and flings them. So things take awhile to get done around my house. Cleaning up in the evening is the worst. I'll go to the bookcase to replace the volumes that she has spent so much time strewing about the floor. She might not notice while I'm lining those books up, but as soon as I move on to check the next tidying item off my list, she cackles on her way to put those books back where she wants them. Our CD collection gets pulled out of their slots, her toys and books are always all over, and her favorite thing to rummage in is the wastebaskets (what joy). I simply don't have enough arms or energy to keep things tidy. I cannot imagine what it will be like when (or if...) we have another.
See the little Destructomatic at her blog. Have I mentioned that I love her to pieces? It may come across like I would like a tidy house, but I'd rather have her.