Laundry and The Husband

Once upon a time my husband was single.  He lived on his own in his own house, quite well I might add.  Jason was (is) anal retentive about order and neatness.  In fact one of his brother's favorite pranks to play on Jason is to come over when he's not home and rearrange the tools hanging on the wall of his workshop to see how soon he notices.  I think the longest it took was 30 seconds.

While living on his own in this house, my husband did his own laundry, correctly!  I know!  He actually knew where the dry cleaner was and what it was for.  He sorted laundry, he hung things up, he ironed and folded and put things away.

Then one day he met me.  Fast forward to me moving in and taking over the laundry for us.  Jason spent a few cycles showing me how he preferred things washed, hung and put away.  I learned where his pants and sweaters went, which way he liked his shirts facing, how to fold his socks.

Every once in a while I ask or Jason just decides to do our laundry.  I wasn't aware there was a fairy that went around once a man got in a relationship and deleted basic cleaning knowledge from their memory.  But that must be the reason I open the dryer and find whites with darks or why I came home once to a shrunken cashmere sweater.

Jason is currently on vacation so he's home all day, with Dayne.  I know, I know, there isn't much time to get a ton done when you have a seven month old demanding your attention.  So when I opened the door after work to hear the dryer going, I was thrilled to know that one less thing would be on my to-do list this week.

I thanked Jason, gave him a kiss and went up to our room to change.  That's when I saw it.  Our bed.  Piled in neat rows were my clothing.  A pile for shirts, another for sweaters, one for pants, one for underwear and another with socks.

"Why are my clothes not put away?"

"I don't know where they go."

We have been together for almost seven years, living together for six!  My clothes go in the same place they have gone for the past six years.  At the very least you KNOW where my sock & underwear drawer is.  And yet, there they sit, on the bed waiting for me to finish the job.

Of course all of Jason's things are put away neatly so the cat doesn't decide they make a good napping location and leave fur and wrinkles all over them.  This isn't a first time offense either.  I think he does this on purpose so he isn't asked to do the laundry or for me to get in my head that he can do it correctly, he just doesn't want to.

What is an ongoing "battle" with you and your husband?