Dearest Husband,
It is with sincere regret that I must inform you that your services as Launderer for the Aycock family will be terminated, effective immediately.
I appreciate all the work you have done to support the household in the past two months, in the wake of The Great Broken Ankle of 2011. However, I have grown tired of wearing clothes that resemble a Shar-Pei puppy's butt.
While you have been an otherwise wonderful contribution to the House of Aycock, I cannot abide one more grocery sack full of "clean" clothing that has been left to petrify in the trunk of your car for three days.
Due to your qualifications and proven abilities in other aspects of running a household (i.e. making it rain) I would ask that you consider staying on with us, in a more modified career path. But you are no longer authorized to operate a washing machine, clothes dryer, or handle bleach. Oh, and you also owe me $7 for what used to be a pair of black underwear, but has now been rendered a sickly peach color.
Thank you for your efforts.
Sincerely, and with much love,
The Mrs.
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