You know when people say "ooh we'll laugh about this one day". It's true.
For Instance: the Wallet in the Washing Machine Incident.
It's the afternoon, I've been at home all day slothing around, Mark comes home in a fluster - he has a party to go to (always with the parties) and gets ready in a rush, and is generally being highly strung.
So he's got ready in about 10 minutes, then he says to me "so where is my wallet"
"wallet? what wallet? I haven't seen your wallet."
"well it was just here!"
"well are you looking for it???" (as you would know - men don't look with their eyes, in that if something isn't right in front of them - they can't see it.)
So we all look around, up and down, low and high, high and low, in front and behind.
At this point mark is so stressed his eyebrows have literally leaped off his face in anger. He needs his wallet because his ticket to the party is in the wallet, and being an obsessive compulsive he needs to do his wallet ritual before he can leave the house. It is very unfortunate that we don't know where the wallet is.
"Let's backtrack to where the wallet was last.."
"It was right here" - Points to spot on the bench where the dirty pile of laundry was about 20 minutes ago.
Hmmm, the wallet was where the laundry was. The laundry is in the washing machine. Hence: the wallet is in the washing machine.
It takes my brain about 2 minutes to put this algorithm together and ever so slowly do my eyes swivel towards the front loading washing machine to see the wallet floating in a mass of suds and dirty clothes.
"Uh, I think I found the wallet"
"Well where is it then?!?!??!!"
I just look at the wallet going for a swim with our undies and in a mili second Mark understands. His rage is only second to his stress - and he completely loses it
"My wallet is in the washing machine!!! You put my wallet in the washing machine!! Get it out of the fucking washing machine!!"
Unfortunately I know that we can't get the wallet out of the washing machine until the machine has done its full cycle of spinning/rinsing and more spinning. And thus I fall into an uncontrollable fit of hysterics.
The more I laugh, the angrier mark gets, the more angry mark gets, the more tears of laughter stream down my face.
So we stand in the kitchen, watching the washing machine, me in tears, mark with steam coming out of his ears.
Eventually the spin cycle ends (a tense few moments one might say), we get the wallet out and I'm trying my hardest to diffuse the situation.
"Well the wallet's pretty clean now eh!"
"Good thing we have plastic money eh!"
"hmm all your cards survived, washed all the drug residue away eh! Won't get arrested in the airport now eh!"
Mark just shoots daggers at me whilst I blow dry his sopping wet wallet. All I can say to stop him from strangling me is go "we'll laugh about this one day!!" which probably doesn't hold much sway considering I can't even string a sentence together because I am laughing so hard.
TWO YEARS LATER...........
We are lying in bed, about to enter the land of Noddy, and I hear this snickering coming from Marks side of the bed..
"what are you laughing about?"
"remember that time you put my wallet in the washing machine"
I TOLD YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wallets in Washing Machines.. Always Funny