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I'm not complaining, I'm really not. Because the truth is, that on a weekend when I was horribly sick, my husband took over all the housework and all the kids, without complaining, and did 90% of it perfectly.
It's just...
This morning I got a baffled complaint of "Where are Kidlet Primus's tshirts?" The husband wasn't sure why on earth the wardrobe was completely tshirt-less.
The reason?
Because the husband did all the clothes washing for the last five days. He washed it. He dried it. He folded it beautifully. And then he kinda... left it there. In a basket full of an increasing amount of beautifully folded clean washing, destined to reach to the ceiling before it ever occurs to him to go put the damn stuff away in the cupboards.
I did rather roll my eyes at that question.
It's just...
This morning I got a baffled complaint of "Where are Kidlet Primus's tshirts?" The husband wasn't sure why on earth the wardrobe was completely tshirt-less.
The reason?
Because the husband did all the clothes washing for the last five days. He washed it. He dried it. He folded it beautifully. And then he kinda... left it there. In a basket full of an increasing amount of beautifully folded clean washing, destined to reach to the ceiling before it ever occurs to him to go put the damn stuff away in the cupboards.
I did rather roll my eyes at that question.