I hosted a dinner party at the end of last week, so by the weekend I was about to tug my hair out. Greg kindly offered to do all the laundry for me. He said he might not finish it as quickly as I would like, but it would get done. Greg did get all the laundry through the machines, but it started to pile up at the dryer stage. Greg hates folding laundry. Hates it. So I was eager to see how long I would have to wait to get my folded clothes.
Last night, I attended Greg’s softball game and watched him play the most stellar game of his young softball career. He made two spectacular catches in center field. After the first catch — a rocket of a hit that he barely managed to nab — I saw him shaking his hand and looking at it. Another fine catch came later in the game. Unfortunately, none of this was enough to save the nForcers from a drubbing.
After the game, several players gathered around Greg to inspect his left thumb. It had swollen to hot dog size. The color was off. The other players fired questions at him. “Is it broken? It looks like it’s broken.”
After taking a couple Advil, Greg lived through the night. He went to the doctor this afternoon, and an x-ray confirmed that it is broken. I know that this broken thumb is a plot he devised yesterday when he saw the clean laundry piling up. You really need both thumbs to do a good job of folding. I cannot believe the lengths this man will go to just to avoid laundry. He is so stubborn!
And yes, I folded the laundry tonight.