The wife and I keep separate laundry hampers because my work clothes smell like jet fumes and industrial processes and crucial split-second decisions while hers smell like a working mom (Unicorn Rainbow Magic, snickerdoodles, the awesomeness that leaks out when she runs a business and carpool and trains with our dog).
I do my laundry every Saturday because I DO IT RIGHT, not like the rest of the people in this house, and this morning I found some of the wife's Lightly Soiled with Awesome laundry in my hamper.
I am presented with two choices: Do my own laundry and leave hers in there
a dick so she can care for
her laundry in the way she would prefer, or take care of her laundry THE RIGHT
WAY along with mine.
Anyone who's married and wants to preserve the peace and sanctity of their weekend knows there is only one choice.
WIFE: 1 HUSBAND: Weekend Preserved.