Member-only story
Folding My Dirty Laundry
I woke up looking into my boyfriend’s beautiful green eyes…
“Aw, babes you look…” I got interrupted by him jumping out of bed to grab his phone.
“Shoot!” He shrieked in panic as he checked the time.
We had overslept, it was late, and he was now in a hurry to get dressed and rush off to work.
Watching him get ready was quite stressful. Looking for his socks he found one under the bed, the other one was mysteriously found in the bathroom sink while he was brushing his teeth. Running his hand through his thick dark hair to tame individual strands from sticking out, he struck his toe on the doorway heading out of the bathroom, and again I heard him repeatedly yelling;
“Shoot, shoot, shoot!”
He was everywhere, panicking, running back and forth into the bathroom and out, into the kitchen and into my bedroom, coffee mug in hand.
Munching on his breakfast bagel, while leaning over to give me a quick peck on the cheek, I found crumbs all over me, and when he additionally spilled coffee on my blanket, covering the beautiful white fabric with brown splashes of caffeine — I flinched.
“Can’t you be more careful??! Look at my blanket! I’ll never get the stains out! And why the heck are you always so unorganized and unprepared?! You’re…
