This morning, I was standing in kitchen and eating breakfast, when Yvette strolled in almost fully dressed and ready for work. She had her boots, pants and . . . . . nothing.
She was standing there in her bra without a shirt.
I joked that while I liked the look, I wasn’t sure it would be appropriate for work. Here is how the rest of the conversation went.
Yvette: There is no rule that requires me to wear a shirt.
Me: There is a personnel policy about dressing professionally.
Yvette: So maybe this isn’t professional for my current job.
Then she left me wondering what her next job would be that I could watch her running around in her bra.
Yvette and I have been married over 14 years and I still can’t explain sorting her colored underwear.
This evening, after dinner I grabbed the hamper and started sorting the dirty clothes to prepare for the weekend wash. For the most part, sorting clothes follows some logical rules. All of the towels and washcloths, regardless of color, go in one pile. Yvette’s work clothes, again regardless of color, go in another pile so she can wash them on gentle cycle (I think). The whites, lights and darks each go in their respective piles.
Then comes the underwear. There are different rules for my underwear versus Yvette’s underwear.
My underwear follows the general color rules. My white underwear goes in the whites, my grey underwear goes in the lights, and my black underwear goes in the darks.
However, Yvette’s underwear does not follow any of the previous rules.
Instead, her white, nude, rose, red, blue and black underwear goes in the whites. It doesn’t matter the color, they all go in the whites.
This is her rule and just like all rules in marriage, I follow them which helps to explain 14 years of happy marriage.
