My cleaning lady saved my marriage!
My goal at Project Happily Ever After is to write about the ups and downs of marriage. In every blog, however, I do try to bring my issues with my husband full circle, showing you what we learned from a given experience and how it brought us closer.
Today, I’m breaking my self-imposed mold. I have nothing positive to say about my husband this morning. I’m just going to rant.
I am because, this morning, I realized that my cleaning lady—Margarita—is single handedly saving my marriage. I know this because she’s been in Puerto Rico for the past three weeks. I dearly miss her.
There’s some sort of scum growing in our toilet. There’s dog hair all over our bed sheets. And, on the folding table next to the washing machine in the basement, my husband created a pile of folded laundry the size of the Tower of Babel.
Was he trying to see just how high it could go before it toppled? All I know is this:
• My underwear drawer was empty this morning.
• I went downstairs to find underwear.
• My underwear was expertly hidden within the intricately designed laundry tower that had been created by my husband.
• I tried to pick through the pile to find just one pair of panties.
• The tower fell over.
• Clothes exploded into a laundry mushroom cloud.
• A bunch of socks and underwear ended up on the floor behind the folding table.
• I crawled on top of the table, lay belly down, and reached my arms down between the end of the table and the wall, trying to retrieve the socks and undies that were now covered with cobwebs and the usual assortment of gunk that tends to collect in the corners of basements. I couldn’t reach the clothes. They’re gone. We’ve lost them. Just gone I tell you.
• And, from what I can tell, not one single sock or pair of undies was my husband’s. The loss is entirely mine and my daughter’s. What’s up with that?
So, I didn’t start my morning off in a very good mood. No, I sure did not. In fact, I spent most of the next 10 minutes muttering the following under my breath:
How hard is it to fold the clothes into manageable piles? He could do one for my clothes, one for Kaarina’s, and one for his. How hard? How hard is it to put his socks in one pile and hers in another? Why the hell does he mix the bathroom towels in with the other clothes? Doesn’t he know that this is how that one stray sock ends up hidden in the towel closet? Why can’t he carry a clean load of clothes upstairs every once in a damn while? Is it asking too much for him to perhaps actually put some clothes away? I mean, really, is it all that hard to do?
Oh, I was so livid. So I made three trips, carrying the destroyed clothing tower upstairs. I sorted it and refolded it into piles. I put my clothes away. I put Kaarina’s clothes away. I tossed Mark’s clothes into a messy pile, making sure to mix everything together with the bathroom and kitchen towels. I’ll let him sort that mess out on his own. Yes, I will.
Did that little act of passive aggression make me feel better? No, of course not.
And because the whole clothing debacle took at least 10 minutes out of my morning, I was running late. So I went on to feel annoyed at my daughter for not putting her shoes on fast enough, annoyed at other drivers who dared to be on the road in front of me, and very annoyed at my gas tank for just so happening to be empty this morning.
My entire morning ruined by a pile of laundry.
But, on the bright side, Margarita returns from Puerto Rico next week. Next Wednesday night, I will have clean sheets, a clean toilet, folded laundry, and a spic and span house. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll love my husband again, too.
Tweet This Post 
Facebook 
Stumble This Post
Related posts:
- Can this marriage be saved?
- If I could go back in time, would I marry again?
- 13 reasons to believe in a bad marriage
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
Tags: bad marriage, cleaning lady, marital advice, Marriage Advice, relationship advice
May 2nd, 2009 at 9:50 am
So its totally his fault the house is a mess and not yours at all? I think I smell a bitch with princess syndrome.
June 11th, 2009 at 8:23 am
Man, I need to get a cleaning lady. Though I WAS thinking through this… “at least he folds the laundry!” My hubby and I both have chronic “toss it into a basket and pull it out wrinkled when it’s time to wear it” syndrome.
October 19th, 2009 at 12:22 pm
Unbelieveable, he took the time to go to the basement and fold the clothes and because he did not do it like you wanted you are angry? You sound like my wife. I can’t believe anyone would listen to you about marriage.