Quick! Hide the Laundry!

Sitting here with my gramma, parents and uncle and aunt, I find that they sure do chat about the funniest things. They just had an hour-long conversation about the merit of tatami floors versus beds, and who had the most comfortable beds and which hotels had the better beds. They've since moved on to coffee makers and blankets.
Meanwhile I hid in the room and completely reorganized the closet and the drawers. Before leaving for the holiday weekend, I hid as much of my laundry as possible so my grandmother wouldn't decide to be the martyr-servant-grandmother who does all the laundry. Sure enough, the few articles I left in the hamper (for bait, to convince her I wasn't trying to hide all my clothes from her) were washed and tossed into the closet in various states of rumpliness. My parents show up, see that she did my laundry and of course, yelled at me for making gramma do my laundry....It's not like I went, "Here, Gramma. My laundry is dirty - wash it!" God...And in fact, it's preferable that she doesn't do it because we have different opinions on what can be put in the dryer and things inexplicably shrink. Worse yet, she also reorganizes all the hangers so pants are on the triangle hangers (wierd little bumps on the hip!) and my really nice dresses are on wire hangers and random shirts are hanging on the hangers with clips which are for the pants...no idea why she does that. I'm glad my mum wouldn't mix things up into wierd hangers, and considering I'm more anal than she is about my clothes, at least she doesn't wash things that I prefer to wash myself.