I'm going to give you a scenario, and if it doesn't sound familiar to you, clear a closet. I'm moving in.
*Scenario*
The alarm clock you've snoozed 3 times already keeps blaring, you look at clock and realize you snoozed more than 3 times and have found yourself with very little time to get ready for work. You rush into your morning routine, skipping clothes because you normally have an idea what you'll wear the night before. In mid-teeth brushing you realize you got busy last night and do not, in fact, have any idea what you'll wear. You now stop everything, and with a panicked feeling in your chest, start running around every room in your house searching for clothes, because... it seems to make sense at the time. You start with pants because... well, again, it makes sense at the time. Then comes top and shoes and accessories and - CRAP! - now to figure out hair and make-up. Every top you find that's cute doesn't seem to fit right or has a stain you 'kept meaning to treat before washing'. Every top that does work doesn't go with the pants you already picked out. And so begins your no good day.
Now. Add to this terrible scene baskets of CLEAN clothes in the walk-in closet, a dryer full of CLEAN clothes, a pile of CLEAN clothes sitting in the living room, summer tank tops and clothes you never really liked hang in your 'rejection section' in the closet, and a pile of 'Only-wore-it-once-and-it-doesn't-look-bad' clothes laying neatish on the dresser (don't judge - you know you do it too). This is an unfortunate scene from the Laundry War that has broken out in my home. Still being newlyweds, we have yet to regulate laundry and the correct method of undertaking. Ergo the horrific scene described above.
How is it that when the wife does laundry, the laundry is:
1. sorted by color/fabric
2. washed according to priority and future wear
3. dried with regulated heat keeping each fabric in mind
4. folded & hung up (when hangers can be found)
5. lint & dryer sheets disposed of correctly
And when the husband does laundry, the laundry is:
1. thrown in as a melting pot of fabrics and colors
............. I assume for the excitement of seeing what colors and fuzzy textures he can create on your work blouse.
2. washed with the intent to put in the dryer... but not done so until a funny smell comes from the washer, resulting in a double-washing and nagging wife
............ I assume because the sound of the screeching "Huniiiieeeeee" is music to his ears.
3. dried with whatever heat setting he approached the machine at
............ I assume because he doesn't have enough tight muscle shirts and wants drawer full.
4. tossed into a pile and/or basket (if it is conveniently placed by the machine)
............ I assume because the magical elves that folded and hung up his clothes as a child have his new address.
5. lint and dryer sheets (when dryer sheets are even used/remembered) are a.) left in the machine for the next load to experience or b.) land close to the trash can, so it counts
............ I assume because lint left in pockets mean too much to dispose of, and he's letting go in his own time.
Our Laundry Wars will eventually reach a treaty, and one full weekend of hanger-hunting, wife-monitoring-machine duty, husband-folding-only-towels action, and a full dose of motivation should do the trick. I love my husband very much, and although I may question his cleaning methods from time to time, I appreciate so much his willingness to help and try... and shrink my jeans. And for those of you that encounter Laundry Wars of your own - good luck and low heat.
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