The Laundry Chronicles: Where are my pants?

Husbands are very interesting creatures. I have much to say on the issue of laundry, in fact, so much that I have decided to make a series of posts about it that will come in no particular order on no particular day. In other words, whenever I darn well feel like it.

As a wife that gets the privilege of staying home, I often do laundry during the day. This probably comes as no surprise to you. Most mom's in my situation do the same. My husband is kind enough to help in the washing from time to time, but I always do the folding. Currently you are reading and thinking, okay...what is your point here? I'll get there, just be patient.

I stated lines ago that husbands are very curious creatures. There are many reasons that this is so, but for the sake of keeping things readable and not incredulously long, we will focus on the area of laundry. Four people in the house creates a bit of laundry. Some have more, but this is still plenty. I can hardly keep up with the task, much less try and decipher what is ready to be washed and what is not. If it's in the hamper, or in "the pile" which I will post on later, then it gets to be washed. This morning I hear out of the mouth of the one I love, a completely ridiculous complaint.

"Where are my pants?"

"Where do you think your pants are?" This being after a slight pause. I had the look on my face that told him he darn well knew where his pants were because he had asked me this same question mere days before and they had been in the same "missing" location. Have a little common sense and look for them before you ask me honey.

With a look of frustration and almost disdain, "In the wash!?" Almost a statement, but also with a questioning tone to see if he had guessed right.

"No. They aren't in the wash." I said as I stopped him from walking toward the washing machine.

He thought for a second. "Why are my pants in the drawer?!?" He was seriously frustrated by this.

"That's where pants belong."

"But they are dirty!"

"No sweetheart, they are clean."

"No, I wore them. They are dirty." As if I hadn't known that he had worn them- ha!

" Yes." in a clam voice, "I know that you wore them, but I washed them and now they are clean."

"I don't like you to wash my pants all the time!"

"Don't put them on the floor in front of the hamper then!"

"But where else do you want me to put them?"

Oh, my. What kind of argument is that. I don't want you to wash some of my things that are on the floor in a lump in front of the laundry basket. I want you to know my thoughts and realize which things that I want you to wash and which ones I do not. Not all dirty laundry should be washed, but if you refuse to wash the things that are in front of the laundry basket (also to be in a later post) I will protest as well.

I give up. And men say that women are hard to understand...