The Lack of Modesty

My mother gave Hubba-hubba and I the best Valentine's day gift- the gift of time alone together. We had six wonderful hours where we saw "Finding Neverland," had a dinner of grilled fish, and then over for some frozen yogurt.

But for some reason, my mother seems to think that when she comes over to my house to babysit, she has some sort of duty to do my laundry. I didn't mind it so much when Mr. Personality was a little baby and I was still recovering from my C-section. And don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at her or anything, just a little exasperated because it is so very unnecessary and I don't know why she feels her day would not be complete without running my washer.

We came home to two loads of clean and folded laundry, as well as her folding some of Mr. Personality's clothes that I had just taken out of the dryer before we left. Hubba-hubba grabbed a shirt and said, "God bless your mother for doing our laundry." And I said, "Don't you feel at all awkward that your mother-in-law has been folding your underwear?" He paused for a moment and said, "Yes, but not enough to tell her to stop."

Now who does that make a worse reflection upon? Me and my housekeeping skills, or Hubba-hubba and his carefree attitude as to who handles his unmentionables? I'm trying to figure it out, and I'm just not sure.