I learned how to do laundry when I was 10 and continued to do it for a couple of years – the washing and drying part was fine, but I always HATED folding and putting away. (Funny how it never bothered me when I worked for three years in the misses department of Kohl’s, aka the craziest folding/putting away clothes job you could ever have.) Since Nicole was much better at folding, eventually she took this duty over and I moved onto something else. Even in college, Nicole did the laundry and I cleaned the kitchen.
So when David and I were discussing division of labor and he mentioned he liked folding (and also, I think he may have seen how I fold clothes and was not a fan) he volunteered for that duty. Great, awesome. You should see the man fold hoodies. Like pancakes. It’s a gift.
Fast forward three apartments. We moved in Sept. 2009. I didn’t know where the laundry room was until Jan. 2010. But one night, David was busy at play practice and I REALLY wanted a pair of jeans clean for the following day. So I thought ‘Hey, how hard can this be?’
So I truck downstairs with the laundry and our card. I have to insert the card and choose my cycle. Easy enough. Except, you know how on most washing machines there are dials/knobs? This one only had two buttons – kind of wash (gentle vs regular) and the size. That was fine – until I looked at the directions on the wall. Which said there was a knob. ‘Well, that makes sense,’ I thought. ‘What washing machine doesn’t have a knob?’ So I look for said knob. Everywhere. Inside the washer, even. For TEN MINUTES I am looking at this machine, trying to figure out how the crap they put a knob where I can’t find it. I can’t call David – he’s in practice. I do call Nicole, who can hardly breathe she’s laughing so hard but alas, she is no help. Eventually I decided the directions are LYING to me, throw my clothes in and head back upstairs.
I call David to leave a voicemail about this whole scenario AND HE PICKS UP THE PHONE. I’m all “Excuse me, why are you answering your phone? Don’t you know I just HAD A LAUNDRY CRISIS and didn’t call you because you’re being all thespian and kissing other women and are not at home showing me how this freaking machine works?!” He too, is laughing so hard he can’t speak. I, however, am not amused. He’s all “babe, why would you think there’s a knob?’ Oh, IDK, because the sheet says it’s so.
Luckily, the dryer was much more straightforward.