Mysteries

I have finally finished washing ALL our laundry, a feat so rare that I could write an entire blog about it alone.  I would too, if it weren't for those hilarious little men I call my grandsons.  They keep doing silly stuff that makes me laugh like I mean it and all I want to do is pass on the joy.  

But first, for you skeptics, here's a picture of the last toasty-warm load to come out of the dryer:

You can see from the background that it's still daytime!

Every piece of dirty laundry has now been washed and for one glorious moment, I bask in the glow of a (mundane) job well done!  Then questions creep into my mind; the kind of questions that can only pop up when every piece of clothing is clean simultaneously. 

Where's my favorite teal sweatshirt?  (Did I donate it and then forget?  Or did I leave it at that Italian restaurant?)  Why do I own eight black tee-shirts? (Am I a ninja-in-training?)  I used to have an entire bureau drawer of underwear but now I only have three pair!  What happened to the rest?  (That's the weirdest question of all.)

I'm not going to over think it.  I'm just going to go out and buy more.

* * *

Thinking of buying things brings me back to the grandson story.  I had the delicious pleasure of being with the boys at bedtime and Brody was sitting up on his mommy's bed in his superhero pj's, holding a small baby doll on his lap. How adorable is that, right?

Brody decided to feed his baby doll but he didn't have a bottle.  He solved the dilemma to his own satisfaction by stuffing the trunk of his toy elephant into her mouth.  

Pleased with himself, he looked up at his mother and said, "Where's my baby sister?"  To which Jessica responded, "You don't have a baby sister.  You have a baby brother."

Brody sat quietly for a moment, digesting this information.  Then decided he wasn't quite done with this conversation yet.  "Mommy," he said, "You need to go to the grocery store and buy me some sisters."

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