On my way home (to the loony bin)

Further evidence that I am losing my mind. Here's a conversation that took place on our way home last night:

(note: The previous evening after I put Freya to bed, Matilda stayed up helped me fold the giant mountain of laundry on my bed while we watched House [I know, I know, it's, um, educational].)

INT. CAR - DAY.
I'm driving, Steve's riding shotgun, the girls are in the back.

Matilda: Mom, can I stay up and help you fold laundry again?

Me: We did it all yesterday, we don't have any more laundry.

Matilda: PLEASE! I really want to fold more laundry!

Me: Oh, honey, I wish I had some more laundry for you to fold!

[Steve gives me a look that says, "who the fuck are you?"]

Me: What?

Steve: You wish you had more laundry?

Me: Well, no, but...

Steve: You know I live to make you happy, [shrug] if more laundry is what you want...

Me: Stop.

Steve: I'm sure I can work something out.

Me: You wanna walk home?

Steve: Would that make more laundry?

Me: Shut up.

Who the hell wants MORE laundry? Not me! Please God, not me!