By Chris
Teresa was a blur of got-to-work-at-Ben's-school-all-day-can-you-take-Nick-to-school-I'm-outta-here this a.m. No problem. I can handle one kid's shower, cereal and ride to school. Except . . .
I could not find a single towel. Usually, there are a few stacked predictably in the same place, every morning, for years. Not today. I wasn't sure what to do. Where are the rest of them kept Closet 1, no, Closet 2, no, downstairs, no, dryer, no. So, of course, it must be Lauren's fault. She's been known to keep all kinds of stuff in her yucky room. So, I knocked. And knocked. Finally, she answers:
"What?!?!?"
Open the door
"What?"
Open the door
"What do you want?"
I WANT YOU TO OPEN THE DOOR!!! (Duh. Isn't that what people always want when they knock on a door?)
Sure enough, there was a pile of towels in there. And, she really did not get why in the world that was a problem. "Mamma needs to wash them," was her comment. So, I'm feeling a "get familiar with the washing machine" day coming. In the end, I resorted to using a really small golf towel, not much bigger than a wash cloth. Fun.
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