“THE SWIMSUITS DO NOT GO IN THE DRYER!” I yelled down the stairs to my husband.

I’ve told him this countless times. Also: Do not do the laundry. I know, I know… I’m supposed to ask for help. But when it comes to laundry? I don’t want the help. Because his way of helping usually ends up creating more work for me.

Just because I’ve sorted piles doesn’t mean they’re ready. They’re more like… place-holders. I might still need to add things. Rearrange. Prioritize the pile with the least funky sports clothes. There’s a system. It’s in my head. But it’s very real.

That day, I had thrown the kids’ towels and my son’s swimsuit in the washer before we rushed out the door for a travel baseball game. The plan? Come home, add my daughter’s swimsuit, and wash it all before bed.

But when I got home, I heard the dryer humming. Which reminded me—I still needed to start that load. Only… the washer was empty.

And in the dryer? Towels. And both of my son’s swimsuits. With 11 minutes left on the cycle. I was fuming.

This was certainly not our first domestic disagreement. I get irrationally irritated every time I find a brand-new bag of chips opened while the old one still has crumbs. He calls it moving on. I call it a waste.

So yes, I yelled. 

As I went back to folding laundry, my daughter wandered in, flopped on the floor next to me, and  slightly alarmed but also curious, asked,
“Mommy, are you going to get a divorce?”

Wait—WHAT?!

“No! What?! Why would you think that??”

She shrugged. “You were really mad at him.”

Fair point. I was.

I sighed. “I’m just annoyed because he does this kind of stuff all the time.”

She thought for a second, then replied,
“But… isn’t he supposed to?”

And just like that, my frustration turned into laughter.

Yes, sweet girl. Yes, he is.

Later that night, after bedtime chats teeth brushed, I recounted the whole exchange to my husband. We laughed ourselves silly.

I was mostly amused that, at just ten years old, she already gets it. She already knows: in marriage, you annoy each other. And then you laugh. And then you do it all over again tomorrow.

I saw a meme once that said, “If your husband isn’t the most annoying person in your life, are you even married?” (Apologies to all the husbands reading this. 😉)

But honestly? That’s the stuff. The mess. The miscommunication. The swimsuits in the dryer. That’s what love looks like some days.

So, no. We are not getting a divorce.

We’re just doing laundry.