So one time a zillion years ago I accidentally turned all of Alpha Man's whites pink. Okay, maybe it was more than one time. Maybe it was a bunch of times, and maybe he took over laundry duty.

Cut to last summer when I got to go shopping with Nora Robers (NORA ROBERTS, PEOPLE!) and I somehow got talked into buying a far too expensive sweater from Anthropologie. I loved that sweater because every time I wore it I thought of the fun I had that day shopping with good friends and NORA ROBERTS.

Last month Alpha Man dried the sweater. In the dryer. On high heat. When the sweater came out, it wouldn't have fit the cat. I pouted over that for a good long time but there was little I could say because hello, Alpha Man had worn pink undies and pink socks for years thanks to me. I told him we were even.

That might have been my mistake.

Four months ago I had spine surgery. It was a big and scary time and the day before I went into the hospital, Alpha Man bought me a gorgeous sweater from Nordstroms. It was also too expensive but I loved that sweater ridiculously.

Last night Alpha Man dried the sweater. In the dryer. On high heat. Why? I'm not sure. He's a guy... ANYWAY, sob, the sweater is now about three inches high now. And he felt AWFUL. For the second time.

So did I. I ate an entire bag of Skittles before deciding that there is really only one solution to this problem we're having.

We need a dedicated laundry person. Which means one of us needs to win the lottery...