The laundry and I are holding an uneasy truce. All the clean clothes are in three baskets piled in the bedroom, while all the dirty clothes occupy the floor in front of the laundry machine. The dryer is rumbling and the washer is waiting patiently to feed it its fifth load of laundry.
We have come to an impasse because I promised to keep up with laundry if the laundry promised to stop enticing the hubby. I have very low hopes in the laundry, because the hubby has a dirty laundry fetish and can be very persuasive.
You don’t believe me.
You should. Ever since I’ve known the hubby he has been a dirty clothes diver. It never matters if he knows (because I’ve told him) that certain baskets are dirty clothes. He gets some perverted pleasure in digging through piles of laundry for a semi clean shirt he can wear inside out. I am glad to report that this fetish extends to clean clothes too.
But clean laundry is also off limits. Before you think I am abusing him, there is a reason. This man will unfold a whole basket of white t-shirts just to find the ‘whitest’ one. The kicker is that he is going to wear it as an undershirt. My mom says the simple solution is to hang all of them up. I just issue an ultimatum.
“Baby, all clothes either in front of the washer or in a basket are off limit, or else. Do you understand me?”
“Now, why do these special rules have to be made?” He says this with a sly look on his face.
He knows why.
He is going to convince the laundry to commit the biggest sin; to cheat on me.
Yeah, I know, the jerk.
But the laundry and I went to couples therapy and we sorted things out. It told me that I never paid enough attention to it. I complained that the laundry was a home wrecker, always looking to split us up by tempting the hubby and encouraging his dirty fetish. That’s why we have both made promises to change and give the other more attention.
It is also the reason we have a date tonight.
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