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It should all come out in the wash

By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
There have been a lot of changes since Greg and I got married last month. There now seems to be more of everything: more groceries, more people in and out of the house and more laundry. Lots more laundry.
I don't know exactly why the amount of laundry has multiplied as much as it has, but it certainly has outpaced the amount I expected.
My household laundry formula was simple: I did my own laundry, therefore when I added Greg's to the pile it would be double the previous amount.
Apparently, logic and mathematics do not apply to laundry. The amount of laundry I'm doing has quadrupled and for no other reason than we're messier than we used to be.
"Could you perhaps be a little more careful when you eat lunch," I said to him. "Have you looked at the cost of detergent lately?"
He just smiled. The volume of laundry or the cost of detergent didn't seem to phase him.
So I kept doing the laundry, pile after pile. It was one day after I had done another load that I looked into the washer and saw a wet $5 bill crumpled in the bottom of the bin. I picked it up and asked Greg if it was his.
"Probably," he said. "You know how I leave things in my pockets all the time."
And then he made me a deal.
"Well, since you're doing the laundry, anything that comes out in the wash, so to speak, is yours."
And that's how it started. In the midst of the pounds of laundry I am now handling, I have discovered a lucrative side business.
Now, instead of piling Greg's laundry in the washer, I search the pockets. There's usually an extra quarter or dollar stuck in the pockets and occasionally, I will find a $1 or a $5. Last week, I fished out a $10 bill.
I'd hit the jackpot.
Occasionally, I miss a bill or two and they wind up washed along with the pants. I've learned to look in the bottom of the wash tub for the stray money.
It will come out wet but clean and I've learned it spends just as well as its dirtier counterpart.
Unfortunately, my dirty little enterprise may be coming to an end. I believe I have been discovered, found out in a strange way.
Last week I found a wad of wet paper in the bottom of the washer. Scraping it out, I realized it was Greg's checkbook. I brought the wet remains out to him.
"Didn't you look in the pockets," he said, laughing at the shredded checks.
"Well, normally I do," I said. "But it wasn't cash so I didn't think to take it out of your pockets. Hey, give me a break, laundry detergent is expensive nowadays."

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