It Will Be All White...

I admit I am anal. About some things. My washing is one of them.

Okay, okay. Not "colour-coded pegs" obsessed but I have a system

I l-o-v-e systems. Look the towels go in together including hand towels, the sheets also get washed together, work clothes, colours.... Whites

Hmmm, whites. I sometimes save them for a couple of weeks so I have enough for a load. I like my whites to be white rather than gray. I roll like that. In the big scheme of life this is no biggie I know but this is what I do. I suppose my Mum taught me (although some nameless member of my family seemed to escape this gene inexplicably. You know who you are).

But. One thing I haven't factored into my obsession is a helpful Silver Fox. God love him. I have been known to ask him NOT to do the washing especially after expensive t-shirts get flung into the dryer.

I know, I know I should be more grateful.

I recently went to Sydney to see LaLa and took Master T with me. I might have reminded him not to wash the whites. He did admit that he thought about it but didn't dare.

"Good" I thought. Tick that box.

Hmmm. This greeted me upon my return and I have to admit a shriek did escape my lips:










Okay I pulled 1 red t-shirt, 1 red dress, 1 red cape and 1red belt OUT of the washing machine that held my white. Er...... Make that pinks. Said um "pinks" currently soaking in the sink.

"Silver Fox" I said.
"Y-e-s..." He said nervously.
"I'm going to tell you once, and once only, only ever wash YOUR clothes. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes" he said.


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