Thursday, July 29, 2010

Arby's pants

My husband and I have had a running argument conversation regarding laundry. This has been going on for as long as we have been married.

I don’t mind doing laundry. I’ll do it when it’s needed. But let’s be honest. My husband is home a lot more than me so he does most of it. There is one thing I hate about doing laundry though. I hate washing his pants and shorts. I hate it because he has a habit of going around the house, picking things up and putting them in his pockets. I find just about everything in his pockets. It goes well beyond the usual coins, receipts and pens. I find all sorts of things in his pockets. I would go take a picture of the top of our dryer as proof, but it seems my dear husband actually cleaned it off in anticipation of me trying to take a picture and post it on his blog.

Anyhow, I find things like Nerf darts, pony tail holders, (although this was appreciated the day I needed one at a restaurant to keep the Captain’s hair out of her blue cheese dressing as she inhaled the contents of her salad), empty Wal-Mart bags, dead batteries, matchbox cars, princess slippers... well, you get the idea.

So reading that my husband missed the checkbox in his back pocket and put it through the wash came as no surprise to me. It was only a matter of time, really. He carries the checkbook in his back pocket. And for all those people wondering why we still use a checkbook, well, that’s because we can’t pay for karate class with our debit card. Monday he took the boys to karate. Monday night he put it through the wash. We also can’t pay the water bill online. Those are about the only things we use the checkbook for.

Sorry, I have a short attention span. I get off topic easily.



Arby’s pants.

Okay. So, one day I go to the washer to empty it after doing a load of my husband’s work pants (which make up about 75% of the lower half of his wardrobe, by the way). I took a picture because I knew nobody, and I mean NOBODY, would believe me if I didn’t take a picture of it.

Click on the picture to look at it bigger if you can't tell what it is.

Yep, you saw that right. It’s a hack-saw blade.

Don’t ask my how, I have no idea how he fit it into his pocket without me seeing it. I just shake my head.


Brownie said...

My husband is an electrician... I have found many odd things in the washer although he is usually pretty good about clearing out his pockets.

Now I have Red - who loads his pockets with rocks.

Honestly - I believe the hack saw.

Jana C. said...

Geez are you sure you don't have my hubby over there. LOL

Buck is a heavy equipment mechanic..... I never know what I will find in his pants. Luckily he usually does the wash. He has washed his phone twice, and check book once !

GingerB said...

My husband washes his stubby contractor pencils. It is hard not to make dirty jokes about his clean stubby.

Oklahoma Granny said...

Just wonderfing if the rest of the laundry survived the hack saw blade or if a shopping trip for new clothes followed.

Bagel's Life @ Home & School said...

That's a new one for me! I've found some odd things in pockets, but nothing like that! My Goodness!

L. said...

Okay, we see the hacksaw blade. Where's the saw?

TobyBo said...

Yay oh Yay for the Boss posting! You need a blog of your own. :)

Andrea said...

Lisa. I'm glad i'm on facebook now, I'm learning so much about your family!!

Michelle said...

Wow, that's a new one for me!! I can't believe that he got that in there!! Great post Boss!! Enjoyed reading it!

The_Kid said...

All men carry hacksaw blades. All of us.

jedijson said...

(to follow up on what The_Kid said)

And we're impressed when our wives see it and instantly know that it is indeed a hacksaw blade. That's impressive. Very impressive.

Papa Bear said...


A word to the wise. One of the most useful tricks I've learned in my attempt to maintain the illusion of order around the house is this: I put a small plastic bin in a central location, one I walk by many times an hour. The ideal location will vary with floor plan. In our house, it sits on a shelf by the doorway between the living room and kitchen. Whenever I pick something up from the floor (usually because I stepped on it) I toss it in the bin. If I find something out of place, rather than track down where it goes, I toss it in the bin. When I find something whose owner I can't immediately identify, it goes in the bin. When I find something I don't recognize, but suspect is not garbage, it goes in the bin. When the bin gets full, I assign Brother Bear to return everything in it to its rightful place. The only things that go in my pockets are my keys, wallet, and phone. I carried a flash drive in my pocket until it went through the wash. It still works fine, but why tempt Fate? I haven't washed my phone. Yet.

Things left in pockets still end up wrongfully put through the washer, but I have the satisfaction of knowing that I didn't leave them in my pockets. I keep an empty ice cream bucket on the dryer where I put the things I find in the washer or dryer, except for things like used Kleenex, which goes in the garbage, and cash, which goes in my pocket. I'm luckier than you because Mama Bear writes all the checks.

Whatever you do, be sure to keep the Boss happy. If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!

Papa Bear