Dishes. They never end. They have other people's gross food on them. I hate when they are dirty and I hate putting them away. My little one will unload the dishwasher but we're both too short to hang up the pots on the pot rack without using a chair.
I don't mind laundry, but with Fibromyalgia it's hard getting up and down two flights of stairs with baskets of heavy laundry. Plus our basement was at one time a cellar, and had the entry outside. The inside stairs were put in in the 1970s I think (the house is almost 100 years old) and the stairs are very narrow, so that I have to drag the basket behind me. THEN turn around and pick it up, while a bunny is watching me. (Our bunny lives in the basement, it's safer for him down there, between the dogs and the heat.) Sheets are the worst, as they have to be hung and if I don't get them outside, I have to drape them over the dining room chairs. My husband loves
it. "Ah, White Trash Laundry Day!" he always says.