Perhaps you know someone who sounds like this. Perhaps you are even married to him. Perhaps he pitches in on housework when it suits him, like when he is trying to prove that he bears no resemblance to studies showing that working women in dual-income households still do the lion's share of the housework.
In any case, one night while watching the baseball game, he folds the laundry. Perhaps he makes sure previously mentioned working woman is in the room and witnesses this event. Perhaps, the same night, he even puts the laundry away.
But perhaps he puts the clothing where he thinks it belongs -- whether he is sure of rightful ownership or not. So the wife's favorite pajamas go missing for, oh, about a week. When questioned (in a loving and gentle manner) as to the whereabouts of said pajamas, perhaps he gets incredibly defensive and says, "This is the thanks I get for folding the laundry?" Now, perhaps the wife inquires (again lovingly and gently) into the effort required to ask members of the household to identify their belongings before they are "put away." No, apparently making sure clothing gets to the right place isn't identified as a reasonable request in "Man's Guide to Folding Laundry," or book five of the best-selling series, "I Said I'd Do It," now in its 1000th printing.
So perhaps the pajama bottoms stay missing until the morning they are unearthed -- in a rarely used dresser drawer in younger's son bedroom and only because of a late-for-the-bus frenzy to find a clean pair of shorts for gym class. It should be noted that there were witnesses.
Perhaps, just perhaps, the next time a load of laundry is washed, white boxer shorts accidentally get mixed in with a bright new red t-shirt. Perhaps when questioned about how such a thing could happen, she says, "This is the thanks I get for doing the laundry?"
As for those studies about women doing the lion's share of the housework? I will only say this: ROAR!
How do you handle the division of labor in your house?