I like to think I’m pretty good around the house.
I cook and I clean. Yes, I’m not the tidiest of men, but I will blitz the house every couple of weeks.
I walk the dogs, I cut the lawn, I’ve even offered to iron but apparently I don’t do it properly!
But there’s just one job I simply hate.
When I come home from work and I find a load of washing in the machine, left for me to hang out.
My heart sinks and my blood boils. She knows I hate it.
Badly loaded, the line leans to one side and the washing doesn’t dry properly.
Plus I hate the sight of my pants swaying on the line, especially my Superman ones.