Laundry List

Jeffrey and I don't fight very often (which is good, since we're going to be living together forever), but we do have those usual little things that annoy one of us about the other. Most couples fight about money in their first few years together, but we are both tightwads, so we don't really have to fight about spending. Nevertheless, we could each make a little laundry list of the annoying habits the other one has, but most of those perturbances actually are pretty funny when you take a step back and look at them. For example:

I have a lot of shoes. (For those wondering exactly how many, I would guess upwards of 50 pair.) I feel like it's ok that I have so many shoes because 1) I got good deals on most of them (including the best deal of all: Mom or Dad bought them) and 2) I wear all of them fairly often.

Jeffrey actually doesn't seem to mind that I have so many shoes, even though they take up the lion's share of our closet; Jeffrey minds that my shoes seem to automatically migrate from my feet to the area underneath our coffee table immediately upon entering the apartment, and there they stay for an indefinite amount of time (like these cute sandals I wore today that, of course, are now under the table).


It is not uncommon for there to be 5 pair of my shoes underneath our coffee table on any given day. Jeffrey doesn't like this situation, so he came up with his own silly solution to the problem: When he gets tired of looking at my shoes under the coffee table, he puts them all on top of the fur down. (If you look closely in these pictures, you will see my little gold flippy-floppies up there.)

My laundry list for Jeffrey actually has to do with laundry! Jeffrey and I have VERY different ideas about how to do the laundry. My idea of laundry is to do the number of loads you have time to do, and fold or hang them as soon as they are done in the dryer (because I'm really bad at ironing, so I prefer just to take care of the wrinkles before they happen). Jeffrey believes in putting a bunch of laundry in the washer and dryer, and then only taking them out or changing the loads if he remembers/feels like it. This results in many of our laundry loads sitting in a big wrinkly pile on the black chair until someone (usually me) decides to fold them.

Unfortunately, by the time we fold them, the clothes have begun to resemble the wrinkled face of a bulldog (like this polo of Jeffrey's):


Important thing: we still love each other. We even laugh about these little bothersome differences (most of the time). After all, it is pretty funny to complete your outfit in the morning by scanning your cabinet tops for the perfect shoes to wear...