Sometimes, You Gotta Do It Yourself
My husband is wonderful. Truly a great husband. But hanging up his clothes or folding them is not high on his list of priorities. I would have let him handle it on his own time, but things started to smell in there. And he is always complaining that he has "nothing to wear."
So I dug in. I almost walked away more than once, but I stuck to it. What better thing did I have to do anyway?
And just a warning to any other girl planning on marrying a soldier, you will spend a lifetime sorting out his socks. White socks, black socks, green socks, dress socks. Socks, socks, socks...
Because, you see, not all green socks are made the same.
Bella wanted to help.
Alright, I think you sniffed all of them.
Such a good little helper.
Okay, let's peace out, Bella. Our work here is done.
Color coded and sorted by type. The Hubby really likes flannel print.
And socks sorted into separate baggies.
You will spend a lifetime folding all of his different uniforms, too. And you will never get the lingering sweat odor out either.
And this is my closet. I'm only showing you because I want you to know that it is completely unfair for your husband to have a larger wardrobe than you do.
Yes, this is my entire wardrobe. Well, minus a new skirt that The Hubby bought me the day before. Side story: I was overjoyed when I tried on the skirt in a size that I haven't fit in since high school, only to discover online that reviewers were complaining that the skirt fit larger than the true size...but I'm going to pretend that I never read that.
And a shoe collection that shames all women.
Thank you, Netflix, for working 378% so that I could finally organize his closet with some entertainment in the background.