To preface, I love my wife and I am by no means perfect, but...
April is handicapped when it comes to the household chore of laundry. Seriously.
I work an unusual shift, 10am to 8pm, which limits the time I have to do chores in the evening. Tonight after stopping by Home Depot (aka the Homo) to pick up some house stuff I rushed home to grab a bite to eat and watch a little TV with April. We've been coveting lowkey one-on-one hang out time because soon this will be a thing of the past. After the show April gets up and tells me she's going to surf the net a bit and then go to bed. No biggie. So I let the dog out and noticed that the basement light was on. When I trudged down stairs I saw laundry.
Three bins stood full to the brim. Clothes crushed down into them.
April always complains about laundry. "Didn't we just finish this?" she always asks. And I always reply, "If you did the laundry in one evening, you wouldn't feel like you were perpetually doing laundry." When I do the laundry, I COMPLETE the laundry. I run everything through both the washer and the dryer and fold and put away everything. Conversely, when April does the laundry it takes about a week. She gets the first load all the way through the machines and it ends up on a chair in the living room. The second load stalls somewhere in the dryer and never makes it way out. The other two (or three if it's been awhile) lie in piles on our bedroom floor for me to trip over the next several days.
"April if you feel like you're always doing laundry; sweetie, it's because you are."
In the course of our wonderful 5+ years together April's laundry deficiency has continued if not worsened. I guess I should be thankful she has stopped ruining my clothes in the wash.
I've explained to her numerous times that I am more than happy and capable to do the laundry. Still April keeps on making her attempts. *sigh* Methinks, it's time for me to become the full time launderer once again.