I freely admit our laundry pile is usually a disaster area. But last week I had a big push and got the bulk of it washed, dried and put away.
The remainder was sorted into two bags, one dark and one light, and I put Friday's work and school stuff in it in the evening.
Saturday morning I was lounging in bed and DH came up and made a big show of saying he was going to put the dark load on 'so he had all his work stuff ready'. There was ONE of his work t shirts in there as the rest had all been done.
Later that day I took the load out and hung it up.
Roll onto this morning and he comes downstairs with a flourish. Grabs his clean and dry work shirt and says 'oh it's no nice to be this organised, I'm really glad I put that wash on, I might start doing that every weekend'.
AIBU to think he's a thunderstealing cheeky fucker? All my effort clearly pales into significance because the Man of The House had put stuff in the machine and switched it on.
Grr.