Maybe we should just dry clean the whole lot

My husband and I argue about the laundry. We don’t have conflict about money, or jealousy. Our disagreements are about cleaning and laundry.

How many of you can say that the following has happened in your house. Raise your hand if you can relate: I walk into the room where my husband is bringing a sandwich to his mouth and yell “STOP DOING THE LAUNDRY ALREADY”. ………………….crickets chirping………………………………………………………………………………throat cleared……………………………………………………………..I don’t see a sea of hands waving in the air. What, your husbands don’t chronically do the laundry??? Ahem, so am I the only one?

You must be scratching your heads saying “He does the LAUNDRY! WHAT is her problem?!” I know I sound ungrateful, but let me finish.

Most people do laundry a certain way. You wash, dry, fold. Wash, dry, fold. You want to know how Bill does the laundry? Wash, dry, dump into a basket, wash, dry, add to the basket, wash, dry, cram into same damn basket, wash, dry stomp into freakin, fullalreadydammit basket. Bring to the bedroom for Jody to fold. I shake, shake, shake each article, cursing the hand that feeds me as I try and fold 10 loads of laundry piled on my bed. I throw at least 1/2 of it back into the hamper to be rewashed because not even an iron heated in Hell could remove the trash compacted wrinkles from the clothes.

The other thing that he does that is not consistent with laundry normality is this……….he does not sort. I bought some brand new white towels and while folding, noticed one that looked, hmm, not white anymore. I walked into the den and said, “Honey, did you wash my white towels with the darks?” Why, yessiree, he did do that. White towels, with blue jeans, black towels and red shirts. No, he is not color blind. Even if he was, he could tell white from FREAKING BLACK.

He also does not pull the socks right side out. He leaves them in little peeled balls that upon being washed, dried and then unpeeled, sends rocks, grass and assorted other playground fodder all over the floor. But, I can’t gripe about that too much, because he vacuums, remember?

So, we have this recurrent power struggle with the laundry. He wants it done NOW, and I want it done right. What’s a girl to do???

For now, we have called a truce, and he has given laundry control back to me. But be careful what you bitch ask for. I sit here watching the laundry pile up on me. It is like some huge ivy plant that is getting out of control……. Hmm, maybe tie dyed towels are kind of growing on me.