Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Plan C or Maybe D

I'll start off by saying my husband and son are really pretty darned good about not leaving dirty laundry laying around the house. Usually. Every once in awhile, I don't know if it's the position of the moon in the sky or a shift in atmospheric pressure, but they'll forget to walk the twenty or so paces to the laundry room to toss their clothes and instead leave them on the floor.

Which wouldn't be an incredibly big deal except the cats sometimes get it into their heads to pee on dirty laundry. Which I actually kind of understand ("Ooo, look this smells bad, must be a new toilet."). But when they do that, you can bet one hundred percent I'm the one who has to clean up the mess. Also, the dog has been known to gnaw the end off a sock or two.

So, overall it's better not to leave a worn pair of jeans or socks or shirt on the floor before you head upstairs to go to bed. And, like I said, usually they're both pretty good about it. You see, I have my methods:

1) Straight up ask - "Hey, could you pick up your clothes and throw them in the laundry basket?"

Believe it or not, that doesn't always work.

2) Bad cop - "I don't know how many times I've asked you nicely to pick up your stuff, but @$#%(*."

I know. I know. Sometimes that doesn't even garner a response.

3) Woe is me - "Listen, I just walked in the door, I have to make dinner, and fold clothes. I have to walk the dog, feeds the cats, and get stuff ready for lunches tomorrow. Could you, pleeeease..."

Yep. This past week, even *that* oldie but goodie didn't work. So I "leveled up" so to speak.

My husband has this habit of waking up in the middle of the night, coming downstairs to watch the rest of the recorded program he fell asleep watching in the first place, and then coming back to bed around four or so.

I figured when he woke up and came downstairs this should get his attention.

Flawless. Or so I thought. It'll make an impression AND he'll realize he forgot to toss the clothes in the laundry AND while pleasantly giggling to himself he'll go and do just that. Problem solved.


The next morning the curtains were open when I woke up. So the day went on as usual. That night when he shut them my masterpiece was still pinned there. He didn't say anything. I didn't say anything.

Two days later it was very obviously the elephant in the room, so he finally asked.

"What is this?" I explained to him my clever little plan.

He goes, "Oh, you should have just asked. I thought you were drying my jeans and socks there by some new method and I was afraid to touch them."

Touche', my dear. Touche'.