Laundry is my nemesis. It lurks around every corner. It leers at me from across the room. It grows and mutates and travels down the hallway. The problem is that I do not have a system. I've heard plenty of girlfriends refer to a day of the week as their "laundry day". What the heck? I swear to God, if I actually knowingly designate an entire day to doing nothing but laundry I will claw my eyes out. What kind of life is that? Where is the hope? What is worse than knowing Wednesday holds nothing more for you than retrieving underwear from inside pants? Please.
So, yesterday my naked husband is bent over the dryer and I ask (over my shoulder from the computer - where else would I be?) "What are you doing?". Folks, he is washing all of his underwear! He has dug out every single pair he owns and is climbing over the dirty clothes pile in the laundry room in order to have clean underwear. Especially his lucky red ones. (Which came in a tri-color pack -green, red, white. The green ones were done long ago...since that's his favorite color.)
So, I think 'How long has this been going on?' And then I state the obvious. "Hooooney! Don't be so dramatic. We can always buy more."
I anticipate my husband will be available shortly. Check back soon!