Life goes on, even if AfterLucy doesn't
Note to self: being true fends off mom-whapping

Around here, we call it "guy eye."

Tre has taken over laundry duty for the great mound o' boy filthy clothes in the basement. I still fold the clothes, but he gathers and sorts them, puts them in to wash and dry, and complains about how messy his brothers are. I understand this, because it is a key part of the laundry process for me too.

This afternoon I was cleaning up the lunch mess when Tre hollered at me from the basement, "Hey, Mom? What did you do with the socks?"

"What?" I bellowed back, thereby cementing my gentle teaching about don't yell at me from the other room, come here and talk to me.

"The socks! The load of whites! They were right here! Where did you put them?"

I rounded the corner to see him sitting on the floor at the foot of the stairs.


...wait for it...

...ON the pile of whites.

I stared at him a moment, and he reached around and pulled one sock out from under his butt.

"Oh. Here they are."

That's when the laughter began. I leaned against the wall, clutching my stomach, and howling.

"It's not as bad as it seems!" He yelled, in an attempt to redeem himself. "I FELL DOWN the stairs. Backwards!"

Well. Now it TOTALLY makes sense.




Gah, still laughing. Moments like that are PRICELESS. Lord, how funny.

Heather Cook

LOL! Boys are so funny when there is laundry involved!

shannon in oregon

that is priceless!!! i seriously laughed out loud. both last night when i read it for the first time and this morning when i reread it.


Guy eye! funny. It's like selective hearing...


I was just referred to your site and what a find! I recently launched a blog site for The Denver Post that is dedicated unto area moms and am curious if you would like to be added to our blogroll. No strings attached--just an effort to build a Mommy Blogger community in CO!


That's really funny, sounds like something I would do.
Great writing, I love your blog.


"Guy Eye" -- so true! All of my guys seem afflicted by this, even the nearly 11-month-old baby (who was sitting up in his crib recently, searching among his toys and in the folds of his Pjs, looking for his pacifier with one hand while holding it in the other).


I miss you. *sniff*

Heather Cook

Where oh where are you? Helllllloooooo... actually, geez, I hope no one cut off a finger or something!

Mary Jo

Pssst! Hey you, missy! Come back pretty please. :)

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