My husband is a wonderful guy. But, his wonderfulness doesn't usually extend to doing laundry. And I'm fine with that. He lets his clothes pile up on his side of the bed, and I ignore them. Or at least I try to, until they trip me while I'm making the bed and start to suck me into their swaths-vortex. When he runs out of things to wear, he will start one load of laundry. And then he'll let it sit there in the washer until I move it to the dryer, fold it, and leave it in a nice neat pile on the bed for him to put away. (Which he normally doesn't. They just end up on the floor, back on his side of the bed.
He does this for two reasons. First, he thinks he is pretty tricky. He knows I wont pick his clothes up and put them away for him, but he secretly believes that he is tricking me into folding his clothes for him What he doesn't know is that I would happily wash and dry and fold his clothes, if he just put them in the hamper.
Secondly, he believes that I will destroy all his clothes. This comes from a couple of unfortunate laundry accidents during our first year of marriage, NINE years ago. But I still can't live it down.
So, yesterday he decided the pile of clothes had gotten large enough to warrant starting a load in the washer. Kindly, he moved the recently washed load I had already started, to the dryer, and started it.
I was so impressed all day long, that he continued to move clothes from the washer to the dryer, and continue to keep the laundry moving for the whole family. At least, that's what I thought each time I walked past the laundry room and heard the soft hum of the dryer.
It was 10 pm when I realized that the dryer was still going, and there wasn't any clean laundry yet.
"Baby, when did you start the dryer?" I asked, glancing at the odd drying setting the dryer was on.
"Ummmm, I guess it was about 11 am this morning. Why?"
I gasped as I ripped the door open, and discovered that Lilly now has a wonderful new wardrobe! Because 11 hours of drying left my clothes, well, um, to scandalous for me to wear! The Entertainer also inherited a whole new wardrobe from his big brothers. And the new jeans I've been waiting to buy just went from a desire to a necessity. The saddest part was that my skinny pants, the ones that finally fit for the first time in FOUR years, were in that load. Lilly will look FANTASTIC in them when she starts kindergarten. sighhh.
But on the upside, I guess he can't complain about a couple of shirts that shrunk and a pair of undies that turned pink NINE years ago anymore.
(And maybe publicly outing the pile on his side of the bed will be the motivation he needs to start using the hamper he forced me to buy for his clothes...)
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