Since moving to Sweden oh so many moons ago I've had numerous occasions to shake my head in wonder at the culture's weirdly obsessive rules for use of shared laundry facilities in apartments.
And when I've blogged about encounters with self-appointed laundry room police (who I must admit are much less Gestapo-like in our current building than they were in our apartment block in Limhamn), the response from readers has ranged from, "Are you serious?" to "I thought Swedes were supposed to be easy-going, not anal-retentive."
Well, in some cases, my friends, it turns out they can be downright "vigilante". This incident ended up in a Stockholm courtroom:
For the record, I usually leave our laundry room in slightly better condition than when I found it. But Dr. Darling, still wary from being reported to our batshit-crazy former landlord for someone else's mess six years ago, won't walk away until it can pass a white glove test.