Mr. Waffle does the laundry. He says if it were up to me, we would never have a clean stitch. I vigorously deny this. I was wearing clean clothes when I met him, wasn’t I?
Four weeks after we moved into the new house, I went to put on the washing machine and remarked, slightly shamefacedly, to herself that this was the first time I’d used it and I wasn’t quite sure how it worked. “Think of it as a small victory for feminism,” she said.
Exactly.
She’s right, you know. Though I think Mr. waffle’s parents deserve a lot of the credit…
Viviane – my husband is all virtue. MC, as you know, my parents-in-law are the acme of excellence in in-laws.
Your post has struck a chord. To quote somebody I shall identify only as, em, Mrs Frankfurter: “What is it with men and their endless need to put on the washing machine? I understand that [name of family member] is the same. … I only put it on once a month but I always have clean clothes.” I would have more sympathy if I didn’t wake each morning to the plaintive cry of:”I have nothing to wear!”