From the maid

This may or may not be directed to a particular husband who I adore beyond all logic or reason but who may or may not be driving me absolutely batty with one particular obnoxious  habit he has.  I've done some quiet research and learned that this may or may not be applicable to the husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/fiance you adore beyond all logic and reason too.  So, here goes.

Can anyone tell me what is wrong with this picture:

That thing on the right?  That's our dirty clothes basket.  That crumpled-up heap next to it that looks like a dirty shirt casually discarded on the floor?  It is a dirty shirt casually discarded on the floor.  RIGHT NEXT TO THE BASKET.

What's not pictured are the dirty socks which were also casually discarded on the floor for the maid to take care of upon her arrival.

Except we don't have a maid.  So, that left me to pick up your mother flipping dirty clothes off the floor.  You notice how that basket is half-full of Silas' clothes and my clothes?  That's because I dress and undress the both of us every day and apparently have substantially better aim than you.

Just swing your arm a few inches to the right and DROP IT IN THE EFFING BASKET that I have conveniently placed there for just such an occasion.  If you don't, you're going to stop magically finding clean clothes in the drawers every morning because the maid is going to go on strike.

..............................................................

Although, that husband who I adore beyond all logic and reason did have to spend two days dealing with car salesmen and being all charming and awesome and negotiator-y to get me this:

Hi, I'm Michelle's new Jeep that her husband helped her get, and she loves me almost as much as she loves her husband, and she VERY MUCH appreciates him for his help and for giving up his sleep on Friday and his entire Saturday to get me because I exude awesomeness and make her smile every time she sees me - much like her husband.

I suppose I should have just picked up the shirt and the socks and kept my mouth shut and known that my husband makes up for his annoying habits with huge bursts of awesomeness and that I'm making a mountain out of a molehill.  But then I wouldn't be me, now would I?


P.S. I love you, husband.