I sprained my ankle a few days ago so my mobility has been a wee bit restricted. My husband, my wonderful husband, has taken over ALL chores that we would normally split.
Said splitting includes laundry matters. I ventured out today for the first time in several days, driving and getting rid of to-dos on Irene’s to do list. Upon my return home, my most fabulous husband had cleared out all the baskets of soiled laundry needing attention and it wasn’t until I pulled items out of the dryer that I discovered he had washed and dried a pair of my jeans.
Now, living in the Pacific Northwest most people – male and female – own several pairs of denim pants. I own several but fortunately there was only one pair of my denim extremity-covers in the laundry basket. Apparently I own sufficient pairs of jeans that I can go a few days without wondering “what will I wear today?”
Anyway, the good news is that with all the hiking my husband and I have been doing, my jeans no longer fit my svelte body so more likely than not the jeans he washed and dried will fit me perfectly.
As for me? I’m not going to try on the machine-dried pair because I don’t want to discourage my husband’s generosity which pretty much year round – regardless of my physical limitations – is front and center 24/7.
So, thus said, I abdicate any perceived perfectly good reason to complain about my jeans.
After all, my most extraordinary husband was only doing what he felt would benefit me most. And jeans-fit or not, I’ve already benefitted.