One can machine wash and/or dry a lip balm.
It is not necessary to remove ink pens or lipstick from pockets before washing and drying clothes.
You can add chlorine bleach to any type of laundry by simply pouring it directly on the clothing.
Lint traps do not need to be cleaned until they catch on fire.
Yep, laundry is easy. 
What’s wrong with towels or sheets on high?
I had a laundry miracle once a few months back. Left a pen in my pants pocket. When I finished the wash, I discovered that despite the fact that the pen had emptied almost entirely, somehow a sock had become affixed to the outside of the pants. The only things that were damaged were a pair of pants and one sock, which managed to absorb the entirety of the ink. After using stain remover on the pants, there was only a faint purple mark left.
It wasn’t until one of my students pointed out an ink stain on my dark blue shirt that I realized that a third article of clothing had been stained. Still 3 for 20ish ain’t bad.
I grew up listening to my mom get bitched at by my dad for everything she cooked (and she cooked everything - these were not enlightened times). My rule now is you eat what I cook, or you cook for yourself. Jim never complains. 
I do all the laundry; my clothes are complicated, and I don’t expect anyone else to know that this t-shirt doesn’t get dried because it’s new, and this one does because it’s old now, and those pants don’t go in the dryer because they’re just the right length, but these ones can go in because I’m trying to shrink them a little, et cetera, et cetera. You need to find your compromises and your solutions that please both of you, CircleofWillis. There’s this lingering myth that women can be absolute bitchfaces and guys are supposed to just suck it up, but that’s bullshit. If she has extremely complicated laundry rules, she can do the laundry herself.
It’s a form of criticism and it implies that he’s incapable of doing mundane tasks correctly. My wife has a habit of telling me how to do simple tasks when I do them in ways she’s not used to. After a while it starts to bug you.
Way back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth and I went to High School, my mother was bedridden for over a year. One day I got home and Dad, trying to pull his weight (he was unemployed so at home while I was in school, why yes, I don’t want to go back to my teens, why do you ask?), had done the laundry, which had actually been part of my duties for a couple years.
He did sort the colors right, but my poor angora jumper, which needed to be washed by hand only and was a PITA to dry properly, ended up the right size for my doll. Dad was totally confused, I knew it wasn’t his fault (hey, Mom had taught him to sort colors but not fabrics) and we agreed that I would sort the loads and he’d run them. I was happy because he handled most of the washing and drying work, he was happy because he felt useful (definitely a positive point when you’re unemployed, in your fifties, with a bedridden wife and three kids).
My grandmother, on the other hand, will watch over the shoulder of whomever is doing the dishes and remark on The Twenty Zillion Things They’re Doing Wrong. For some reason, we’ve all reached the point of kicking her out of her own kitchen while we do the dishes!
I can understand the OP’s concerns, those issues that seem piddling tend to grow into wars-- or passive-aggressive skirmishes, or the blamed party simply giving up.
When I was younger, I wanted things around the house done my way-- and ended up doing everything around the house, besides my outside job (teaching). In my 30s, I lost my first husband, and spent a few years on my own. I remarried, and I only understood at that point, the first time my new husband made a full fancy breakfast for me, that if I wanted that kind of treat, and help around the house, I had to put up with things done differently-- and in my opinion, of course, not as well as I’d do. 
My husband doesn’t even think of it as helping, he sees something needs doing and he does it. Just not my way, and that doesn’t matter at all. We are good together.
I learned a long time ago that the “magical” piles of laundry can only be determined by Mrs. Bubbadog. My attempts at same-color, same-fabric, same-function sorting have all been wrong. After 12 years bachelor ownership of my own abode and washing everything in my home I had come to find upon my inaugural wedding year that I knew nothing about washing clothes.
I am allowed to wash towels unsupervised - that’s it. Everything else must be pre-sorted by my goddess.
As an engineer I’ve designed and operated complex control systems worth millions of dollars but I’ve somehow proven myself incapable of operating a Maytag Neptune washing machine.
I’m surprised no-one has asked how you’d feel if her farts didn’t smell of cinnamon
I’m the controlling type. My husband picked up the dustrag to clean out the entertainment unit, and I started to complain that I had just done it! I realized that it had been a week ago, and what the hell was wrong with me that I wouldn’t let him clean?? I apologized and explained to him that in my mind he was insulting my housekeeping - but I realized he was just doing what he thought needed doing and wasn’t thinking about me at all.
I’m so dumb. I’ve done the thing with the dishwasher, too. Now I get to do all the dishes. 
I have to completely stay out of the kitchen when he cooks because I can’t control my mouth about how “he’s doing it wrong.”
I am working on it, though.
I’ve been over this ground with several girlfriends (concerning laundry, folding towels, drying dishes, and filling ice cube trays).
But I’m not aloud to do laundry at my parents’ house. Ever. For the rest of my natural years. You see, I did my own laundry in the dormitory machines and ruined everything I owned. In my mother’s head, I am a natural disaster with laundry, and I will never improve.
The dormatory incident was in 1980.
Something about this hit me just the right way, and I’m giggling so hard my eyes are watering. I have this mental image of a very smart, competent engineering-stereotype banging on your standard-issue toploader with a huge wrench, one red sock in the other hand, going “Work, you stupid pile of laundry magic! Work!” It is, in a word, fabulous.
Thank you, BubbaDog, for my moment of Laundry Zen.
Allowed!! 
Sorry.
I’m in the process of leaving a control freak extraordinaire. There isn’t an aspect of my life that I couldn’t detail in a similar fashion to the laundry issues seen in this thread. I haven’t done laundry in years. Not for lack of trying though, I can’t even fold the finished product or even put the clothes away properly. I suck at laundry!:rolleyes:
I started a similar thread once, when I realized that I’ve changed the way I do just about everything because my husband feels so strongly about it being done his way. That includes dishes, folding towels, even boiling water!
Oh, they will never forget. My family is the same way. In fact, when I die, I want my headstone to be engraved, “Here lies Julia, Beloved Wife and Mother—‘I did not eat those Flintstone vitamins and I did not quit my job because Deana told me to’”.
snerk
Sometime around 1983ish, I mentioned to my mother that I like caffeine-free non-diet Coke. I mentioned that once. To this day, she buys a couple of cases of it every Christmas.
It’s hard, isn’t it? Regular Doper readers must know I’m a foodie, and I cook well. Now and then Mr. brown tries to help out, and it’s difficult.
We were having tacos, and I asked him to slice up some lettuce finely for them. I watched him cut the lettuce into massive chunks which you couldn’t fork into your mouth even if they were served as a salad. He saw me eying his work apprehensively, and said “What?!? What am I doing wrong now?” “Nothing, dear.” Then I let him try to shove the giant lettuce clumps into the little taco shells on his own and said nothing.
I have experience with this type of woman.
She is a perfectionist. Everything needs to be done just right.
The main problem with perfectionists is that it is so hard for them to do simple things that THEY DON’T DO IT!!!
So you come along and do the things that need doing but you don’t do them right…which provokes perfectionist behavior in your beloved.
Yup…irritating as all hell. At first it was slightly irritiating…but then it gets downright annoying and makes you pissed off (The OP is not at that stage yet I see).
OP - wait until you divey up the chores and decide to spend a day ‘cleaning up the house’.
You will do laundry, scrub the floors, mow the lawn, vacuum all the carpet, change the oil on the car, sweep the garage, etc etc etc.
She will - spend the entire day organizing 3 drawers.
After you are all done, she will consider the work done as equivalent…and then proceed to be critical of all you did.
But by damn…those 3 drawers will be SPOTLESS I tells ya…spotless!
If you divey up the chores, you will be done with yours and she won’t even have completed 1…and the rest won’t get done. Yup, great fun.
I know. You’ve got guests coming over and the house is a mess. You decide to divide up the cleaning. You come in breathless from doing your share and your partner/spouse/mate is alphabetizing the CDs. Because that’s what the guests will check, you bet.
Oh I do love my wife, honest and for true. Every little thing about her. Well, maybe with one exception.
Is it really that hard to turn your clothes rightside-in after you remove them? I won’t even harp on the fact that they get turned inside-out in the first place, something that I manage to magically avoid when undressing. But to leave all your clothes turned inside out adds a ridiculous extra step into doing laundry. Wouldn’t it easier to turn them rightside-in right away, rather than have to do it for thirty articles of clothing at one time?
Hal, maybe your wife turns things wrong side out to prevent fading on the right side? That’s why I do it