the problem with no laundry

I never thought I’d see that day where I would say this, but there is such a thing as not enough laundry. I used to tease Caleb mercilessly about all the dirty clothes he’d generate on a daily basis. But it wasn’t really his fault. Between PT clothes in the morning and sometimes again in the afternoon, uniforms, and the clothes he’d change into at the end of the day, well he made about half the laundry in our house. I got used to doing a load a day.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining about that laundry at all. The opposite, in fact. With him away, the laundry has trickled to a measly one load a week, or however long it takes us to run out of clean underwear. And with so many days between when I throw the clothes in the basket and when they finally make it to the washing machine, I frequently forget what all is in there.

Like my favorite sweater/jacket whatchamathingy. I can call it a whatchamathingy because I’m confident there is no other thing in the world quite like it. And I forgot about it. And I washed it. And then I dried it. And I should mention the warning on the tag: LINE DRY ONLY.

So now it is the world’s smallest whatchamathingy.

I forced my arms through the holes and wore it around the house yesterday, which helped some, but it’s apparent the whatchamathingy will never be the same again. Only now instead of being Jonathan size it’s more like Jackson size.


Yep, that’s sort of what it looked like on me before it shrank.


And Jackson is a total cheese ball.

Wait, I think there’s something missing here.


Ah-hah! Much better.

This really makes the outfit, don’t you think?


For Hire:

One mini professor.

Has extensive knowledge of all things related to peanut butter and

prior experience teaching Tigger and Pooh 101.