Don't EVEN get me started on the Washing of the Brassieres!
When I was workig 3 jobs and the Ex from Hell was laying on the sofa unemployed, I gave him the job of laundry-boy.
My bras either a) got put in the dryer on high and practically melted, and the little wire things all came out b) got thrown in a heap on top of the dryer where they did NOT dry and got musty or my favorite, option c) I freak out enough about options a and b and the bras do not get washed at all, but rather left in the cellar dirty -plus I'm on the top unit of a 2-family and have to get my tenant's permission every time I want to use the laundry room since it is through their apartment, so if I want to retrieve bras from options b or c, it's kind of a hassle.
AAAGH!!!!!
The end result was of course what Ex wanted all along, which is that I would come home at 11:30 from my second job and have to hand-wash my own bras and hope they would be dry by 6am when I had to leave the house again. And he got an extra 15 minutes a week of Seinfeld reruns as a result.
Bastard.