Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Riddle me this, dear reader: What does a man do with ten pockets on his cargo pants, except to annoy the hell out of the person ironing it?
And there are two of these monsters to press. Luckily he looks good in them or they would have been lost in the wash by now, never to be found again.
Ditto with the boy's cargo pants albeit many times smaller but just as irritating to iron.
For the past year, my son has had (and still has) a fixation with small stones and pebbles. Goodness knows where he picks them up from but he does. How do I know this? Well, come every laundry day, as I'm emptying the pockets, a stone or pebble will be lying in there, waiting to be fished out. What gives?
So after a few weeks I ask him: what's with the stones and pebbles? "They're magic stones, Mummy. Please don't throw them away." And I don't. Instead, I put them atop the washing machine and it's grown into quite the little collection. Everyone needs a bit of magic now and then.
I don't know who's weirder, mother or son.
Labels: home life
The Dutchess of Cookalot whipped this up at 7:00 pm