The laundry is one thing I refuse to let Robert do. I mean the actual placing of clothes into the machine, adding soap and turning it on. The machine we have seems to act up if we add too many clothes, so the load size is a concern to me. If it becomes unbalanced it can take up to two hours to run one load. Ugh. Who has time for that?

Robert has always thought I was mean for not letting him run the machine. I don't think I am mean. I know he loves to tease me about stuffing in a whole basket of clothes to be washed, but he always tends to add more clothes than I want in there at once, so I don't allow it.

Hence my surprise when this morning I heard the washing machine beep after he went into the laundry room. I questioned him and he explained that he had sat in some mysterious goop at breakfast and wanted to wash his pants. He added a few other items he said so he wasn't washing just one pair of jeans. I thought to myself "Maybe this man has some laundry potential. Maybe it wouldn't be too dangerous to allow him to do some laundry once in a while."

My warm fuzzy feeling about Robert doing laundry screeched to an abrupt halt when I heard the expletive he uttered upon opening the machine after the cycle was completed. Yes, he had neglected to take his wallet out of his jeans before washing them, so it and many things inside were ruined. The picture is of the things that could be saved drying out.

I should learn to trust my gut.