Bless his heart he did the laundry for me. I think my endless complaining about the division of chores in our household kind of encouraged him into it. And he was aflame with laundry duty, too! He washed sheets, towels, kid clothes, couch blankets, chair covers... He even washed the pants I had just stepped out of as I hopped into the shower. Yes, the very pants that still held my cell phone.

This isn't to say that I haven't made tragic errors the general care of my family. I distinctly remember a certain Christmas Duck incident that poisoned all who ate it with a bad case of (pissbutt.) Including the dog. Merry Christmas indeed.

However, my husband is a genius scientist. He's a compulsive direction reader. He's maniacally thorough and methodical. So I can't help but wonder. Is killing my cell phone with the washing machine a tragic accident?

Or his brilliant scheme to never be asked (told) to help with household chores?

Ordinarily, I wouldn't suspect him. Except that he also shrunk the crap out of all my sweaters. Clearly he was sending me a message.

I yelled and screamed that he never should have washed my various colored sweaters together anyway. Admittedly, I'm a great big fat jerk, because he did the laundry and got rewarded with screaming. (Do you see how intricate and brilliant his plan really is??)

Further evidence of his diabolical plot: The Kitchen.

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