Yoked, take two

Marriage is supposed to be a team effort, ya know?

Each pulling their own weight to make the load easier to bear, and all that jazz.

But sometimes there are the cows that pride themselves on being super awesome at pulling said load, and get all smug and wrapped up in their awesome yokery.

So it's especially difficult when the smug cow ends up not being able to do anything but be dragged behind the other team member for a myriad of reasons.

I'm that cow.

Not the pully-pully one.

The face dragging in mud cow.

I don't know why but it seems like the easiest tasks are insurmountable. Like laundry.

Week after week, I stare forlornly at the growing pile of clothes in the laundry room, and sigh deeply.

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," I say. "I just couldn't do it..."

And Jerm replies cheerfully with something like, "It's okay! I need to help you more. We can do it together!"

And then I go and hide so I don't have to fold little girl undies, with Jeremy following to figure out where I went, and thus begins an epic game of hide-and-seek, and I yet again successfully distract him from folding our clean clothes. And another week goes by where we completely ignore the ever-growing mountain of laundry.

I've been able to mask the problem by buying more clothes for people who complain about not having pants, but I can only do that for so long before it becomes a serious budgetary issue.