September 2, 2013
Hubby had taken Savannah (our oldest) and Claira (our youngest) with him to Home Depot. Only a few minutes after he came home, the dyer beeped, indicating it was done.
Knowing that it contained a bunch of Hubby's nice shirts, I quickly removed them to avoid them getting wrinkly.
I believe in ironing clothes only when it's a life or death situation.
That's why some clothes get re-warmed in the dryer eight or sixty times before I finally remember to pull them out as soon as it beeps.
Anyhow, as is my habit, I dumped all the freshly dried clothes onto the couch, pulled out all the shirts and set them nicely aside, then went back to the laundry room, switched over the stuff in the washer and started a new load.
Going back to the couch, I start folding the rest of the clothes while chatting with Hubby.
Finally it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Claira.
Me: Hey, where's Claira?
Hubby: *giving me a really odd look* What do you mean?
Me: Where's Claira? Did she fall asleep in the car on the way home?
Hubby: *walking over to me before getting a rather amused look on his face* Maybe you should try looking under your laundry pile.
Me: *thoroughly perplexed* Huh?
Looking down at the pile of clothes I was folding, it took me a second to realize what I was looking at.
I hope it took you a second to see it too.
It would make me feel so much better.
Even if you noticed right way, please uphold my parental ego by lying and saying it took you a moment as well.
Apparently I had dropped my pile of laundry right on her sleeping head.
Mother of the Year.
I guess it's time to start praying that my children will survive having me as their mother.