2 MEN AND A COMFORTER

When you live with your husband and his father, it could go one of two ways. For me, it's my own little TV sitcom.

Other day Bob Sr. asks Rob Jr. to help wash him double size comforter. It's downy, beige, and has a checkered pattern. Course I'm a girl so I notice the details.

Putting it lightly, Rob Jr. does not really participate in the laundry marathon here in Fayville, so even though Bob Sr. needed assistance, Rob Jr. was cooking something ugly.

I, of course, pretended I was extra busy and for once in my life, did not offer to give a hand. I also didn't want to miss the show.

A few days later, Rob Jr. gets around to the WASHING of the COMFORTER. Meanwhile, Bob Sr. has expressed his disgust, remorse, and impatience. Having been married to Rob Jr. for the last 16 years, this was no surprise. Rob Jr. would just assume purchasing new clothes when he ran out of old ones. In fact, a few years back I decided to go on LAUNDRY STRIKE and STOP doing Rob Jr.'s laundry. Thought teaching him a lesson would make him want to change. I'm as dumb as rocks really. When it came time to 'running out of the clothes' Rob Jr. carted himself to Kmart and bought himself a few new packages of Hanes double x boxers. Lesson learned. Not by him of course, but me.

So Rob Jr. washes A comforter, dries it, folds it, and delivers it to Bob Sr.. This took most of a Tuesday.

Rob Jr. and Bob Sr proceed to stretch out the comforter as a team, fluff it, pat it down. Until finally they realize, this comforter is two sizes too big for Bob Sr.'s double bed.

I watch from the kitchen eating popcorn. It's like my own movie theater show and I don't even have to buy tickets.

I also recognize the over sized comforter. It's a downy, beige, KING size comforter that my mother presented us at Christmas, oh about, five or six years ago. I should also mention this is THE VERY comforter that has dressed our bed, meaning Rob Jr's and I for oh about, five or six years. Still, he makes no notice.

I watch the two of them examine the comforter. "Why doesn't it fit my bed anymore? What the hell did you do to it?" Bob Sr. states. Rob Jr. replies, "I don't know, you told me to wash it, so I washed it, and I don't get why it doesn't fit."

I feel sorry for the two of them, as they sit there in utter disbelief. I can't help but laugh and grab another handful of popcorn.

Finally, Rob Jr. says, "this must be your comforter. I mean this is what I washed." Bob Sr. refuses to accept it and they start in on yet another argument. That's when I decided to step in and explain that that one is OUR comforter and HIS comforter is still in a laundry pile in the hall.

So neither Rob Jr. nor Bob Sr. learned anything from this experience. I, however, did. If I want Rob Jr. to participate at all in the laundry around here, have Bob Sr. assign it. (: