That does not mean I put up with Hubby's shenanigans when it comes to these things.
In the moving-into-our-house process, we had the laundry hamper in our bedroom right in front of the door because we had boxes everywhere else. Once we started to unpack the room, I realized that I didn't want the laundry hamper directly in front of the door- who wants to see dirty laundry when they first walk into a room? Not me! So, I moved the laundry basket to the other side of the dresser and called it a successful day.
|The Laundry Hamper|
When Hubby got home that day, he went to throw his dirty clothes in the hamper and all he saw was it was missing- not in its "normal" spot. So, he started a pile at the foot of the bed. When we went to bed that night, I pointed out to him where the laundry hamper now was, and how his laundry needed to go into it instead of at the foot of the bed.
Hubby: I don't like the laundry hamper over there. It's all the way on the other side of the room.
Me: What? It's on the other side of the dresser, not the room.
Hubby: Same thing.
Me: Just put your clothes in the hamper, please, and then I can wash them.
Hubby: Why don't you put my clothes in the hamper for me? (snickering- Understand that while Hubby is an ass, he really isn't. He says things like this in a joking manner.)
Me: Because I'm not your maid. Once you put them in the hamper, I will wash them, but I'm not putting them in the hamper out of principle.
2 days went by and this pile at the foot of the bed just got bigger and bigger. Every night we'd climb into bed, and he'd say, "Woman! Why haven't you put my clothes in the hamper yet?" I'd smile, turn over and put my back to him.
Another 2 days went by, and I decided to have photographic evidence of these shenanigans. Excuse the mess around the hamper, and the Kitteh in the distance shot. She wouldn't move for shit.
Please note that our bedroom is not huge. The distance between Hubby's pile of clothes and the laundry hamper is about 4 1/2 feet.
His pile of clothes remained at the foot of the bed for almost a week. Finally one day I told him that I was doing laundry- only laundry found in baskets or hampers in the house. If the kids have to put their clothes in a basket, then Hubby had to as well, or his dirty laundry wouldn't get washed. I saw him messing around with the pile and assumed he was moving it, so I got into the shower. When I got out of the shower, he was standing over his pile of clothes with this huge shit-eating grin on his face.
Hubby: I'm not going to put the pile of clothes in the hamper because you've been adding stuff to my pile! So you have to move it, now!
Me: (looking at the pile and seeing my pajama pants, tank top and underwear on the pile- the clothes I had just shed to get into the shower a few minutes before) You assmunch! You can't get my clothes off of the bathroom floor while I'm in the shower and add them to your pile. I'm not stupid.
Hubby: (looking like I just popped his favorite balloon) Okay...
We both laughed, and he picked his clothes up, complete with my newly-added pre-shower clothes, and put them in the hamper so I could do the laundry.
I don't deal with laundry shenanigans.