February 18, 2012

Follow-up from February 17th:

 Text Conversation:

Me:  Any yen for anything for dinner?

Emile:  Pancakes??!

Me:  Ok

Emile:  Sounds Great!

 So last night we had pancakes for dinner. And bacon and maple syrup. No leftover squash – everyone was too afraid to heat it up.

 February 18th, 2012

 Being unemployed as I am,  I do all the laundry.  I do all the laundry even if the situation was reversed. That is good for our relationship – it saves Emile from being henpecked to death as I remind him yet again to lay my black turtleneck flat to dry.  I never touch the litter box or take out the garbage or recycling.  I do the grocery shopping, Emile cuts the lawn, we share the cleaning (although he is better at it than me) and I handle all the money (carefully siphoning funds off for facials). 

 But there are rules for the laundry.

 1.   I don’t check pockets.  You left in there, you’ll deal with it being washed. 

 2.  Underwear and undershirts get folded the way they went into the wash.  If it went in the wash inside out, that is how it is delivered to your room.

 3.  If a sock is missing its mate it goes to your room regardless.  Singles gather in your sock drawer not in the laundry room. 

 4.  Laundry is piled in the order of it being folding.  I do not categorize items when they come out of the dryer.

 5.  Laundry is dropped in your room and you are responsible for putting it away. 

 Yes, it is no picnic getting your laundry done around here! These rules usually result in Emile having up to 3 piles floating around invariably have at least one single sock and most of his shirts inside out.  So, now and then, he has the big task of putting everything away.

 I don’t know why, but I love laying in bed watching Emile put laundry away. He is his usual fastidious self in some aspects (the careful hanging of his shirts on his coloured coordinated hangers) and “stuff it in” with socks and underwear.  I guess I like the normalcy or distinctly NOT extra-ordinariness of it.  We talk about this and that, laughing about unfunny things and generally appreciate each other as Emile accomplishes his task.  It occurred to me tonight that most people do not thank their laundry people very much.  But my husband does.  Every time he is putting it away or sees me lugging it around, he thanks me.

 February 18th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary Event: Realizing that sometimes the most mundane moments are the most Extra-Ordinary and that not everyone gets thanked consistently for clean laundry.  I’m just lucky.