laundry

when i fold laundry, soaking in the fresh scent, i am quite content knowing it is only my underwear, v-necks, and socks.

one day {in the far distant future} i'll be happy to launder the future mystery man's polos and slacks, even his ratty t-shirts and sneaker-stained socks {cause i'll love him or something like that}... 

but for now, i like knowing where my stains come from and that i only have a few pairs of socks to mate.

 i should inform the future mystery man {prior to marriage} that he's going to mate his own socks. no rhyme or reason other than i hate {and always have, i might add} mating socks. 
and i'm a terrible iron-er. 

that is another important consideration he should ponder before taking me to the alter.