Last night was, as I mentioned, the first night of Comic Con, and Scott didn’t get home until after 10 p.m. Shakespeare Club didn’t happen yesterday because a number of the kids were out of town or had relatives visiting, but my gang and I had a busy afternoon nonetheless. Them: running through sprinklers. Me: plugging away at the decluttering project. More progress, woohoo! But I have decided that clothes storage, as in the handmedowns I’m saving for the next younguns in line, is the bane of my existence. Just so you know.
Around 7:30 in the evening I was folding a load of laundry while the younger four played a rowdy game of hide-and-seek. Curiously, most of the hiding took place in the room where I was folding laundry. Do the older girls not know that I always tip the littles off to where the big kids are hiding? Dinner was cleared away, evening chores finished, kids ready for bed, most of the dishes loaded (thanks largely to Jane), kitchen floor swept, and the ginormous pile of unfolded clothing that had been occupying the best hiding place of all, behind Wonderboy’s bedroom door, was now completely gone. Folded, sorted, put away. I was down to a few last items from the load fresh out of the dryer. Major accomplishment, especially with Rilla “hiding” under my feet.
Right about then the phone rang. Jane answered it and I heard her say: “Oh, no, Mom’s not busy at all!”
That’s right, just basking here in my life of leisure. Peel me a grape, somebody!
Yet another of life’s eternal mysteries
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