I really hate doing laundry. Actually, I don't mind the sorting or the switching to the dryer; it's the putting away part that galls me. The folding, hanging, and occasional ironing cause me deep and unyielding grief. I'm just too fucking lazy to get it done. I'm far more prone to having a basket full of clean whites than a chest full of clean drawers. When I got married I had like 50 or 60 pairs of white socks because I kept buying more rather than washing them.
My wife has a theory about laundry and marriage. In her words, "I'll be damned if I'm gonna do somebody else's laundry." Yeah, she did it for a while before we were married. Let that be a lesson to any single guys reading this. I really shouldn't complain. She still feeds me quite well, possibly too well. She cleans everything but my office and my bathroom (yes, having her own bathroom was a requirement for buying a house). She cleans the cats' water fountain because it routinely makes me gag when I do it. She let me get cable, then digital, then DVR (which is fabulous I should add), and she almost never interrupts my computer gaming. All I really do is change light bulbs and kill bugs, and I don't even kill spiders.
Still, I hate doing my own laundry. I keep trying to talk her into letting me pay some maid service to come do my laundry. She ain't having that. One time she needed money so she decided to let me pay her $50 to do all of my laundry. It took her an entire weekend to get it all done. I figured she wouldn't make that mistake again.
The last time her parents visited my father-in-law and I sat quietly while our wives discussed things they refuse to learn to cook. You know, those things they like so much that if they actually knew how to make it, they'd be as big as a house. It seems like there are some foods that strait men just don't get.
At one point my wife said something to the effect of "I'll do anything for good tiramisu."
I'm a math guy. words mean different things to me than they do to most people. Anything is a pretty strong word in my world.
I perked up and asked "Anything?"
"Yeah, anything."
"L-Like.. my laundry?"
I had to do this very delicately. She had only had two glasses of wine, so I couldn't give her too much time to think this through. However, two glasses is just enough to make her easily provoked into saying things like "Your ass hurts." Which if said in front of her parents would of course later be my fault for provoking her.
"For tiramisu? Yeah, I'd do your laundry."
"For how long?"
"Hmm, I couldn't eat it too often. If you make good tiramisu four times a year, I'll do your laundry"
Wouldn't you know, I make some damn fine Tiramisu now. Lucky for me she doesn't realize how ridiculously easy it is to make... Another note to any single guys reading this.
