Why I'm not allowed to do chores anymore

It should come as no surprise to anyone that Ann's and my already busy lives became infinitely more harried upon the arrival of Molly. Not that either of us resents her because of it for an instant- Ann absolutely adores the little squirt, as do I. But she has made our lives quite a bit busier, and Ann, an anxious person at the best of times, has been feeling stressed out for months now. This is not entirely her fault -- I'm a much more low-key, mellow person who figures stuff will work itself out and am in my element when handling things on the fly. Translated, this means that I have no organizational skills... if I were in charge of our vacations I'd be trying to book our flight online a week ahead of time while yelling on the phone at some poor hotel clerk about why there aren't any rooms available. As a result, by default Ann ends up handling anything in our lives that needs to be scheduled in advance, like doctor's appointments, family get-togethers, ritual sacrifices, etc. (Just kidding, the cult we belong to is totally non-violent, blessed be the Leader.) One notable exception- I do pay the rent every month. And I'm pretty good about getting it out on time, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not occasionally lucky our landlord doesn't assess late fees for a couple of days over.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that the poor girl is stressed out. So the other night she went out for drinks with a friend on a night when I didn't have class, leaving me to watch Molly. Which I did, but I thought it would be a nice way to ease Ann's burden a bit by also handling some chores that she usually does. She almost always cooks, but I made dinner based on the instructions she gave me to use the hamburger before it went bad; once I was done I washed all of the dishes; and I threw Molly's dirty clothes in the washing machine, then after they were finished threw in a load of Ann's and my clothes, and finally put them in the dryer and tossed in the last batch of clothes. Once that was all done I sat down on the couch, feeling moderately proud of myself. When Ann came home she was similarly pleased and thanked me several times before going to bed.

Cut to the next morning, where in the course of an hour Ann discovered three things:
-The hamburger she had wanted me to use, in the fridge, I had not used; instead I thought she said the freezer and used some hamburger we had frozen in there. The upshot of this is that we don't have the frozen hamburger for whatever we were going to use it for, and the fridge hamburger has now gone bad.
-Comparatively minor, but when washing the lid of the pan I used, I focused solely on the bottom of the lid, the part that actually touched the meat. You'd think that'd be enough, but apparently grease splattered on the top, which I didn't wash. Oops.
And most importantly...
-I forgot about the laundry after throwing in the last load. Which means in the morning we had a dryer full of wrinkled clothes that had to be re-dried, and a washing machine full of wet, possibly mildewy clothes.

And that's why I'm going to run away and join the circus.