Domestic happiness…

Being a student in college and working full time doesn’t provide much free time but every week, my husband likes to do the laundry for us. I don’t expect him to help out much around the house given his schedule but then again, nobody should look a gift horse in the mouth either, should they? πŸ˜‰

Anyway, I always thought of my hubby’s help as just a nice gesture, by itself, and that Animals-Pets-Cartoons-Punch-1990-06-08-13-2is mostly still true but that sneaky guy has been keeping a secret from me in all of that fluff and folding going on. So last night I decided to get in there and do the laundry myself, after all, I do like doing it even though most people tell me I’m nuts or they say “That will change once you have kids!” whenever I mention this admiration I have for laundry, to which I just roll my eyes and scoff, but hey, I am sure they’re right. I’ll get back to you on that when I do end up having some little ones running about the house but, I digress. While I was sorting through our laundry, I kept finding pieces of paper, coins, and other stuff that I would simply classify as garbage, in my husband’s pockets. Anywhere from his work pants to his everyday jeans and shorts to his collared shirts that have pockets, there was some sort of paper trash tucked away in each opening. It was completely insane! By the end of sorting through all of the clothes I could have probably made a pillow out of all of that trash and then gotten an ice cream from the truck that annoys me every day around 4pm as it circles endlessly through the outside parking lot.

I mean, what is this madness and does it happen to anyone else or am I the only one who is finding an episode of hoarders within their husband’s pockets? I just don’t understand why someone would choose to walk around with so much useless stuff in their pants. Isn’t that completely uncomfortable and doesn’t it become quite bothersome when trying to find something of value amongst all that trash? Doesn’t the crinkling noise as your walking irritate you, or are you so accustomed to the noise that it is now second nature to your ears?

The answer to these questions begin with a series of “uhh’s” and “I don’t know’s” and ckyourpockets_originalthen become, “well then let me go through my own clothes.” My reply to that one is, “well you didn’t think to remove the junk prior to dumping the clothes into the hamper so what will be different now, prior to dumping those same clothes into the washing machine?” I don’t usually get a response to this particular question though, because he is usually too busy giving me that look that translates into: “Damn! That’s a valid point but I don’t want to tell you this so instead I will just sit here and we’ll have a staring contest!” and I end up just walking away and leaving him to throw away the pile of paper that has accumulated from his clothes. To be fair though, my purse sometimes accumulates receipts and things like that but I don’t hold any sentimental claims on those items, nor do I put them carelessly into my washing machine where they will wreak havoc on my other clothes. This pocket nonsense is just plain silly and I don’t get it, at all, but I love my guy…the hoarder that he is and all. I mean, if this is my biggest battle in my domestic life then I will take it! πŸ˜€ And hey, thankfully it’s just pocket trash and not a skid mark situation, if you know what I mean! Haha!geranium+domestic+wtrmk

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