Nothing says “I love you, schmoopie” like being greeted at the bottom of the basement stairs by a plastic grocery bag crammed with my husband’s sweaty clothes from a lunchtime workout. Usually I trip over them the day after they were flung down the stairs, so the contents are nice and ripe and slimy. I go into Bomb Squad Mode, carefully pick up the plastic explosive and shake the contents into the poor washing machine. If I am really lucky, a Speed Stick will also fall into the machine and I have to dig it out with my hands while holding my breath.
As much as I love being the laundry wench, I have my limits. If the shirt goes into the hamper inside out, it gets folded inside out. And I am not proud, but I do discriminate. Aidan is still challenged when getting dressed and could care less when his pants are on backwards. I turn his clothes right side out. Eileen’s clothes are so small that they are easy to flip. Except the skinny jeans that my flabby arm gets stuck in. Those remain inside out.
Mine? It depends on how lazy I am that day. Often I dump the clean laundry in the middle of the basement hoping that it will fold itself. (In my husband’s defense, when I ask him to fold the laundry — without rolling my eyes or sighing — he will help. Often, Eileen’s days-of-the week underwear end up in my basket but I take it as a compliment that he believes my butt is that small. Or maybe he thinks I need reminders to change my drawers.)
When it comes to Tom, forget it. I gave up. How it ends up in the hamper/floor/Jewel bag is how it gets folded. (And before you go thinking that I am a total A-hole, I recently found several other gal pals who also are on strike and leave their husbands’ clothes inside out.) He’s a big dude (6’3”) and I am a borderline, card-carrying dwarf (5’), so I have to stand up to turn his clothes right side out. Besides, I figure that he will eventually get the hint to submit his clothes in the proper fashion.
Well, not so much. He recently wore his polo inside out at work until one of his coworkers brought it to his attention.
Awkward? Yes. Lesson learned? Nope!