"Some days, I question whether or not we should be together," I called up from the laundry area a couple of days ago. "We share the same affliction in putting away our laundry...aren't couples supposed to balance out?"

We go on to dissect the matter and unveil the neither one of us minds doing laundry, neither one of us minds folding laundry...we could do it all the live long day...but putting folding laundry away is a torture akin to the likes not seen outside of a dungeon. Currently, we both have piles and piles of folded shirts and whatnots on the table near the dryer downstairs, along with baskets we've loaded with our folded belongings and carried upstairs to be placed near our respective closets. I know mine's been there for at least two weeks. It has to have been, because now I've reached the point where I farm there for the next day's work skirt.

And, by the look of Nick's rifled-through basket, I'd say his has aged similarly.

I guess, on the plus side, neither of us is irritated or impatient with seeing a basket full of folded clothing sitting here or there...rather, it is a relief to know there is no rush in doing away with our own. Phew.