Wednesday, December 13, 2017

There Are None So Blind As a Man Doing His Own Laundry

Some people see a glass as half full. Others see the same glass as half empty. Val sees that glass with just a couple of drops left clinging to the bottom. So far empty that a certain blog buddy's wife wouldn't even bother to put a paper towel over the top to save her used water for later.

Having heard almost all there is to tell about the wacky adventures of Val and her Sweet Baboo, Hick...you are privy (heh, heh, I said privy) to the fact that Hick does his own laundry. That's not because he's such a selfless, caring, empathetic husband that he wants to relieve Val of part of the housework load. No. It's because shortly after the marriage vows echoed off the chat dumps of Backroads, Val informed Hick in no uncertain terms that clothing would not be picked up off the bedroom floor for washing, but would only be laundered if it was in the clothes hamper. Hick, being somewhat of a hard-headed, self-nose-biting, face-spiter...declared that he would do his own laundry, then, rather than kowtow to Val and her cuh-RAZY ideas on clothes-washing. Pretty brave talk from a man who used a uniform service for work clothes five days a week.

Flash forward 28 years to the present. No uniform service during retirement. Hick did his laundry Friday night, so he'd have a pair of clean shorts to wear under his Santa pants for Saturday's breakfast with a bunch of pre-schoolers. Let the record show that it IS mid-December, and while the weather has been unseasonable warm this winter, it seems a bit laundry-laggy for Hick to just now notice that he had no clean shorts.

Anyhoo...Hick does his laundry at night, while he's kicked back in his La-Z-Boy watching a Pickers show or a Moonshiner's show or an Off-Grid Building show or those relatives of Jewel in Alaska. He usually folds his laundry on our bed. Perhaps he didn't have the arm strength to turn on the light with his new click switch, or perhaps he was exhausted from a late return from the auction Friday night and put off the folding until early Saturday morning, while I was asleep on his usual laundry surface. In any case, it looks like Hick folded his clothes on the long couch in the living room this time.

No. Val is not psychic. Well...okay...I am...just a little bit. But I had a major clue this time.


I spied a Bounce (Walmart generic version) on the floor Saturday afternoon. In defense of my slovenly home, allow the record to show that the carpet is not discolored, but rather showing different sunlight patterns from the front window, and indentations from the lugs on the soles of Hick's boots.

You might think that Val would be thrilled that Hick does his own laundry. That she'd be hoisting that full glass in a toast to her Sweet Baboo's chore ethic. But no.

"I see there's a Bounce on the floor."

"Huh. Maybe you dropped one."

"Maybe in the laundry room. But I found one in the living room."

"Huh. I must have dropped it when I folded my clothes. I see it now."

"Uh huh."

Let the record show that Hick is not one to take a hint. That Bounce is still there. You don't think I'M going to pick up, do you? I'm busy refilling my glass. Trying to get it to half full.

12 comments:

  1. You never know, there might be a penny under that bounce.

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  2. Years ago I tried to do laundry and the results were so disastrous I haven't been asked to do laundry again. I'm smarter than I look.

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    1. That is why I have never ASKED Hick to do laundry. He volunteered for this mission, and only his clothes are affected!

      I'm thinking you probably haven't been asked to wash the kitchen strainer, either.

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  3. At first I thought those must be Hick's socks all along the back of the couch, but a closer look tells me those are bows. Forgive me, but I would have picked up that Bounce, I couldn't help myself, just couldn't leave it on the floor like that. This is the reason my kids bedroom doors were closed from the age of about twelve until they left home.

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    1. No socks. That's the trim on a blanket hand-made by my niece, daughter of my sister the ex-mayor's wife.

      If you ever come for a visit, you can pick up the Bounce. I'm pretty sure it will still be there. I had to step over it today while sitting on the long couch wrapping Christmas gifts.

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    2. I'm suddenly reminded of something my step father used to say when his kids didn't want to pick up something from the floor, he'd say "give it to me, I'll pick it up" so they would pick it up and give it to him, not realising of course what they'd done, and this went on for YEARS before they caught on.

      Delete
    3. As I type this on my Shiba in the living room, Hick is sitting on that couch, with his foot three inches away from that Bounce, and shows no inclination to pick it up.

      Maybe I should ask him to hand it to me!

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  4. Those dryer sheets have a way of getting away from you, I have had those previously invisible sheets pointed out to me lying on the floor...

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    1. I'm sure YOU did the right thing and picked it up, once you were made aware of it...

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  5. You should have wrapped around the toilet paper roll and let him tug.

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    1. That might have caused a crisis worse than Hick leaving a Bounce on the floor. I reminded him today, and he feigned ignorance, then acted all condescending, "Huh. Suuurrre. I guess IIIII can pick it up."

      Let the record show that Hick was standing RIGHT BESIDE IT at the time, and I was sitting over in his La-Z-Boy writing out a graduation card for Genius.

      Don't even get me started on his ridiculous answers when I asked if he thought it was MY job to go pick it up!

      Delete