Laundry

Brett and I celebrated our 9th anniversary this month. I love my husband, he is the best thing that has happened to me. He has given me the best gift he could have, our three fantastic, crazy, wonderful, unstable, silly, beautiful children (they take after me you know)! He is kind, funny, sensitive, and he worries about me. It's nice to have someone worry if you're ok when you're not home, or worry if you are going to pass your test, or if you are feeling alright. He makes me feel special, and he is always ready and willing to help out where ever he can.

Now let me tell you all how I know he loves me too. It all has to do with laundry. Yes, that is right, laundry! I hate to do laundry, even more than I dislike doing the dishes! So, as you can imagine the laundry piles up because I keep putting off doing it. I figure I have until we run out of clean underwear until I need to do laundry again. I will admit to making my kids wear dirty jeans to school, but I draw the line at dirty underwear. And I have bought extra pairs of underwear to lengthen the time til D-day. Once I get the laundry washed and dried, the next problem is folding it and putting it away. Sometimes it sits in the living room for a week before I break down and fold it so I can do more. This is usually how the week goes. The first day, I am motivated and get the first two loads folded and put away. After that, I get distracted and the loads start to pile up. Pretty soon there is too much laundry to just sit and fold for ten minutes. So it sits while I go off and do other things. The second thru fifth days, I look at it as I go by and get increasingly frustrated because it doesn't get done! And yet, I still don't do anything about it. The sixth day I know I need to do it soon, but I still don't. All this time I am feeling like a terrible house keeper because I can't (really won't) keep up with the laundry. Finally on the last day I wait until night time and then I pretty much explode. I get all upset that I have to do "IT" all by myself and I just can't do all I have to do without help! I get mad at Brett because he has just walked by the laundry all week too! He has two hands doesn't he? I get all huffy and emotional and let's face it, basically irrational. It doesn't matter that I haven't asked him once all week to help me fold. Even though I know that if I did ask him for help he would. It doesn't matter that I know he works long hours, and sometimes after working all day he comes home and works all evening. And what does Brett do? He helps me fold all the laundry and put it away. Not only that, but he doesn't complain about how I am really the one who procrastinated all week. He puts up with my emotional outbursts, and that is how I know he loves me still. Amazing isn't it? Aren't I a lucky woman? I guess it doesn't really matter what you think, because I know I am!