January 20. Day 20. Whitewashed

I admit that I am my own worst enemy. Like many women, I inadvertently encourage "learned helplessness" by liking things done my way or no  way.
The men in my life have learned that doing it "wrong" will result in them getting away with not having to do it at all.
Now it is true that it is there is no reason why when the laundry is being hung out that the socks need to pegged next to one another neatly in pairs. But I like it that way and I argue it makes sorting and returning the clean washing to its rightful home much easier.
On the other hand there is a really good reason to load the dishwasher in accordance to the manufacturer's specifications. Jamming everything in and slamming the door shut will pretty much guarantee that nothing gets cleaned. I am often reminding my nearest and dearest that the water does actually need to be able to reach surfaces in order to clean them.
In this instance, near enough it not good enough.
So I can only imagine the conversation that is going on behind this freshly whitewashed fence I walked by this afternoon.
In my mind someone was being nagged about doing the bloody painting - and so he did. So what if you can't see the wood for the trees.