Many couples make a house work agreement, it being done primarily by the lady as she‘s home already because she’s busy doing the most importantly job on earth; teaching their children how to live. When the children grow and leave, she then splits the house work with her husband and she develops other skills.
John and I were late to marry and made no such arrangement but as I’ve spent more and more hours writing children’s books, and illustrating them, John has picked up the laundry and washing dishes. I very much wanted to keep those jobs! They’re quicker than writing a story, easier, and I’ve never had to worry, “Those last few loads of laundry were executed so well; I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do that AGAIN!” Last but not least i hated to give up doing the laundry because, like Buddhist making a mandella, I was afraid the universe would crumble if my towels weren’t folded “correctly”.
Yesterday, as Amy and I worked, John brought up a load of clean clothes from the basement and proudly announced he discovered something important and cleaver; if he’d finished a small load of whites he’d save them in the dryer until a small load of darks were done, then dried the two together.
Amy cautioned that as the dryer warmed them up some dark colors might bleed onto the whites. I told John I didn’t mind but he became pensive as if he was rolling his eyeballs backwards into his head. Then I said again I didn’t mind in fact I already had a white blouse with one very unique pink sleeve and I didn’t mind.
After a few more moments John told us in a tone indicating the decision was made that the problem solved. “Most of the darks are my clothes. They’ve been washed so many times they wouldn’t bleed if you shot them!”  nancymauerman.com