"can you take down the recycling", are the six most drudgerous words any man's wife can utter.
but the bastard will do the recycling with ducking gusto every time.
I get in the elevator with Friday night flip flops and his technicolor laundry vomit explosion.
give the nod and touch nothing.
flips asks if I intended to go to the basement and I explain, " nah, I gotta go downstairs and drop this grief", indicating my bag of grief.
"that's a great word to use", indicating his bag of laundry.
"grief has many uses. you got yourself a bag a grief right there guy", as I gesture to his laundry bag.
he leaves the elevator enlightened.