Several years ago when we moved into our newly built house, I dropped a hint or two that it would be nice to have a clothesline. We get an ample amount of wind out here, so it would save money and there really isn't anything like clothes dried in the country breeze and sunshine. That is, as long as you don't have livestock living downwind.
And that is where I left it, knowing full well that I could rest comfortably in the safety of Hubby's ridiculously long To-Do list.
But he tricked me. During his time off over the last few days, I have watched in morbid fascination as not one, but four perfectly positioned 50 foot long clotheslines have been erected across the backyard, per my previous request. And before I knew it, I was being domestic and hanging clean clothes in the sunshine to absorb all the wholesome country breeze. And as I carried a basket back into the house, Hubby commented, "Hey, they're already folded too!" I stood there with my jaw hanging as I realized he was right. Unknowingly, I had folded the clothes as I took them off the line.
My reputation may never recover.