He brings home the bacon.
I fry it up in the pan.
And never, never let him forget he's a man!
He does the laundry. My laundry man!
I mean that "he's a man" in the infuriating sense that he repeatedly manages to man-handle some of the wool items in the house, in the laundry machine! I know that I sound ungrateful. I'm not, really. I'm so glad he helps with the laundry. But I do wish that he would learn not to launder the HANDKNIT woolens. So when I was switching some clothes to the dryer yesterday, I discovered another victim. Internally, I screamed, "Not again!" I marched upstairs and waved the poor littler object before his nose. This last time he said, "That's pretty." He did not recognize that it was the cute hat that I was photographing right in front of him the day before. He didn't notice that it had shrunk to about half the size it was!!! UGH. This is not the first time, it won't be the last, but I do believe we have broken a speed record for Off-the-needles-into-the-washer. I'm really close to uttering, "Only a man!" But instead, I bite my tongue, take a deep breath and go to my yarn corner to mutter to myself.
The cute elf hat.
It's felt now.
It is so sad.
Too sad for pictures.