Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Don't call my husband a diva but his closet can make Cher envious.

My husband and I agreed to do our own laundry. This has been a standing agreement since we moved to an apartment that does not allow washers and dryers.

I do my laundry, the pet's laundry and any household laundry. He does his own. I'm quite happy with this arrangement. Why? My husband changes clothes more often than a supermodel changes clothes for a runway show. And his clothes are of the bulky variety, sweatpants, layers of shirts, etc.

On Monday, I ran downstairs to do my laundry. Hubby came home from getting his haircut as I was going downstairs to put my wash in the dryer. "Hey, I'll
come down to do my wash with you." Ok, I thought. "I'll get the elevator."

Hubby came to the elevator with 5 bags of clothes, 2 laundry bags and 3 king
size pillow cases. "That's your week's worth?" "Yes." he replied.

We get down to the laundry room and the dryers are still running. Since the timer on most was ending soon & there were 4 washers free, I decided to leave my clothes in the two washers until someone came down to pick up their clothes.

Hubby proceeds to my washers and pulls a cart out to empty my washers.

pg: "What are you doing?"

H: "Emptying out these washers so I can use it."

pg: "That's my clothes. There are 4 free."

H: "Yes, but two are the heavy duty washers. I need the standard washers."

pg: "Fine."

So I proceed to empty my clothes into a basket. As I'm emptying, Hubby asks if I need help and grabs a basket and starts dumping my clothes from the other washer.

pg: "Why don't you start filling the other two."

H: "I like to start them at the same time.

Eyes roll up into my head as I quickly empty my clothes into the basket. By the time I finish shaking them to avoid any laundry knots, a neighbor has come down and picked up her clothes from the dryer.

I stuff my clothes in the dryer and watch my husband turn beet red trying to reach 4 washers to start simulatenously. The lady folding her laundry looks at me and I smile sheepishly.

In the end he wound up using 5 washers. He was downstairs folding for an hour. He was so exhausted from folding he left the shopping cart (yes, he had to pull out our shopping cart to haul his load up) in our entranceway. Of course it's Wednesday and his clothes are still in my entranceway. I guess I should be glad it's at least folded.