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Laundry Day

August 30, 2007

Living together is great. Especially when your significant other isn’t doing much over the summer and can be a house husband. Some days he laxes… “I just didn’t have motivation to do anything today.” I can understand that, although you get really used to coming home to a made bed everyday.
One of the biggest perks is that he’ll do the laundry. After a few trips with much complaining, now he’s committed and over the weird faces the women who run/work in the laundromat give him.
There have been a few mishaps… I came home one hot Friday evening after having to walk 40 blocks because my train decided to stop running.
I walked in sweaty and mildly annoyed. But I was ready to keep the energy level up and wanted to head to the gym. I looked at the drying rack. There were many many more wet clothes than should have been on the rack, and many of them were clothes that could have been put in the dryer.
I turned to Matt, who had an “oh shit” look on his face.
“Why is all of this stuff just lumped on here? Why didn’t you dry my exercise shirts?”
“I didn’t know which ones I could dry or not so I just wanted to play it safe.”
“But, we went through it. I told you which you could and couldn’t dry?”
After the mostly broken cheap Target drying rack actually broke and I had moved shirts to other locations throughout the apartment to dry appropriately, and Matt and I had had a voices raised discussion that ended in us both laughing and realizing our ridiculousness (Mine at getting so upset about this, his at not just using common sense when it came to what can be dried) we headed to the gym, and came up with a new system. Stuff that goes in the dryer goes in one bin, stuff that doesn’t goes in another and he does two loads. No fail, right?
For a few months it was.
One day, knowing Matt was doing laundry, I commented that since there weren’t many clothes in the “to be hung” bin why didn’t he just toss the sheets in too. He agreed and I left for work.
The first GChat conversation was about trying to get out of doing the laundry. I didn’t back down, being pretty much out of gym socks and underwear.
The second GChat conversation asked me about washing things in cold water. I was busy so I didn’t think much about it and just answered that I usually wash everything in cold since I don’t seperate colors. He seemed appeased.
I came home that night with plans of working out, doing some writing and a little cleaning. I had the house to myself and was excited about it.
When I walked in I saw the bottom sheet hung over the opened doors of our kitchen closet. “What?” I thought. I walked into the bedroom and there was the top sheet strewn about over our open closet doors. “Why wouldn’t you dry the sheets!”
I started fuming with frustration. I tried to calm myself by putting on workout clothes and just trying to ignore it. It didn’t work. The sheet was taking up basically the whole room and I couldn’t avoid it as I changed. So I changed my plans and began the process of laying the sheets out over the couch and bed to get maximum air coverage and started using the hairdryer. I was cursing the situation under my breath the whole time and just shaking my head at how he would think he couldn’t dry the sheets. My shirts I can understand, but he must have washed his own sheets before, right?
I started to calm down later into the night, and had a funny conversation with my Mom about training hetero males. She remembered a conversation she’d had before Dad died about what a great man Sammy was becoming, but that he still needed training on how to be a good roommate, as most men do.
When Matt got home close to 12:30, he came into the bedroom to see if I was awake.
“We have to talk.” I began
“What?”
“Why didn’t you dry the sheets?”
“What do you mean? I asked you about this.”
“No you didn’t, you asked,” Matt interuptted
“Hold on a second.” He turned to walk out of the room and I knew he was going to get his computer to prove that he had asked me.
“You asked me about the water temperature!” I called after him
He came back, computer in tow and kneeled at the bed to look up our chat.
“Oh…,” His plan of proving me wrong via computer failing, “You’re right. I got confused.”
“Yeah, you just asked me about washing in cold water.”
“I guess I figured that meant you hang it up to dry, because I usually wash the stuff going in the dryer in warm water.”
I just laughed.
“Sorry Bear,” He said looking at me sheepishly.
“It’s okay.” I said laughing. Really I wasn’t ever mad at him, just frustrated at the situation and underneath it all lusting for an apartment with a washer and dryer hook up. When I related this to Matt he exclaimed, “I like having the laundry to do, I like that its my thing.”
The next day as I folded up the now dry sheets I noticed how soft and fresh they smelled. When I pointed this out to Matt he responded, “I know, that’s what I intended!”

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