Why Didn’t You Check My Pockets?
I do most of the laundry in our home. In fact, to be more precise, I’ve been doing the laundry in this home for more years than I want to admit. When I was a young housewife who stayed home to raise children, I checked all the pants pockets of any piece of clothing that came my way for washing. Every spot was sprayed with stain remover and I was careful not to mix colors with whites. When I was a teenager, I tried to be helpful and did a load of whites for my Mom. My washing job turned out to be a dye job for all my Dad’s underwear and socks. So, for a few months, my Dad became the first man ever to wear pink underwear! Today, underwear for guys come in every color of the rainbow so I must take credit for this fashion trend. I actually had more time as a young laundress to fuss over dirty clothes and I took great pride in how my family looked in their clothing. Not only did I wash but I ironed too! When a member of my family left our home, they left, looking fantastic in crisp clean clothing. What pride I had in a job well done!
When I took a full-time job outside the home, my laundry habits had no choice but to change. A laundry attitude adjustment needed to happen fast because there was no time for ironing or checking pants pockets. I barely had time to hit the spots with stain remover before tossing the heap into the washer. If the washer couldn’t handle the grime, well that was just too damn bad.
The other day, I did a load of laundry and as I began pulling the wet clothes from the washer I noticed a money clip with a bunch of dollar bills soaking wet from their washing machine ride. Crap! I knew what was coming from my husband when he saw his dollar bills drying in the office. “Don’t you check the pockets before you wash?” Just let it go I said to myself, move on, it’s not worth a fight. But then, the worst thing possible happened, I washed his wallet. That’s right; HIS wallet goes for a carnival ride in the washing machine. CRAP! The first words out of his mouth “why didn’t you check the pockets?” I stood there glaring at him and thinking to myself what is wrong with you girl? Speak up! Who cares if what comes out of your mouth starts an argument!” I say to him with just a touch of snarkiness “it’s not my job”. “If you put your laundry in the hamper, then you need to check the pockets first!” His response, “you should always check the pockets, my mother always did.” That’s about the time when the words started flying out of my mouth and I couldn’t stop them. “I’m not your mother! It’s your bleeping responsibility to check your pants pockets before they go into the hamper.” “It’s not my job.” He stood there staring at me as if he suddenly didn’t know who I was.
Have I learned my lesson? Of course not! I did a load of laundry last Sunday and low and behold I see an object staring back at me in the washing machine. CRAP, CRAP, CRAP! A computer memory stick is lying there wet with all the information on it gone forever. WTF! Why does this shit only happen to me? I walk into his office to tell him the wonderful news.
Why do I beat myself up over these little errors that happen to millions of women every day? Why am I a perfectionist with some things but could give a rats ass about other things? Most importantly, why doesn’t this shit happen to him???
Due to the fact that I’m “laundry challenged,” my husband decided to become the captain of the laundry. He’s actually very good at it and I’m sure he checks his pockets before throwing them into the washing machine. Did he take on this duty to preserve his worldly possessions or was this a scheme on my part to get out of doing the laundry? I’ll leave that answer to my readers.