(with apologies to their father and grandfathers, and reminders to them that blogging is all about poetic licence...)
That no matter how neatly or tidily a wet flannel is folded and placed on edge of the bath, it will still get all skanky and smelly. Hang the damn' thing over a tap, the edge of the bath, the showerhead, towel-rail, please!
That socks don't pair themselves.
That on the floor by the bed is not the same as in the laundry basket.
That the women in their lives are far more likely to return their affection if the washing up is done without the fact that it is sitting in the sink waiting needing to be mentioned.
That long-ago promises to unload the dishwasher (in the face of a wife's refusal to use it because of her childhood memories of parental arguments over who's job it is to do so) have not been forgotten.
That the dishwasher fairy is a myth.
That Muriel the invisible housemaid is not invisible because she is a gift from god, but invisible because she too is a myth.
That removing an empty packet of cornflakes from the cupboard, putting it in the recycling bin, and kindly requesting that she who is in charge of the shopping replace it is far more likely to result in cornflakes for breakfast the next day than than simply leaving the empty packet there and hoping she senses it's finished.
That changing the toilet roll is not an affront to manhood.
That it is does matter which way round the toilet roll faces.
I could go on - but I'll spare you...