Where Gratitude and Anger Meet
I have a husband who is always willing to help out around the house. For that I am terribly grateful. Some would say that I should end this post right there.
I'm afraid I'm not that good.
I need to take him aside and let him know that some things should not be washed.
Last Christmas my mother-in-law, who is an exceptionally thoughtful gift-giver, gave me a lovely royal purple scarf. It was bright and beautiful, soft, silky and shiny. How I have enjoyed that scarf.
Notice the past tense.
It is nearly midnight. I am packing for a trip we're taking this weekend to Cedar City, Utah. And I opened up the dryer to see that not only had JDub simply added his load of laundry to the load already in the dryer so that everything came out damp and wrinkly, he had washed my scarf.
It is now a dull purple, wrinkled and not so soft.
And our white underwear and socks are now a soft purple.
5 comments:
:( i'm sorry. i've done the same type of thing more than once myself. it's a bummer.
Oh no!!! I am so sorry Heather :(
He was trying to tell you that he has always hated that scarf in the nicest way possible. You should applaud his tact.
This is exactly why my husband is not allowed to mess with the laundry. Early on in our marriage, I had several pink underclothing experiences. (They started out white and then a red shirt was thrown in just because and wa-la everything else was pink.) He must not do laundry unless dire circumstances necessitate it. And then only if I sort it and tell him what can be dried and what must hang to dry. I am a little militant on the sorting and drying. I feel your pain.
Ah, the helpful husband. Gotta luv em.
Post a Comment