Saturday, March 6, 2010

The Tale of the Dirty Socks

Typically, I have moments throughout the day when I turn into my mother. Its true. A car will speed past me on the road and I will shake my head and say, "Well there's a ticket waiting to happen." My mother says this and when I turn into her, I say it too.

This morning though, I turned into Leo...my father. This is slightly disturbing for me.

First, let me give you a little background information. Last weekend when I did the girls' laundry, Casey only had 2 pairs of clean socks. These were all the matching socks that were in her hamper. So, that's all she had. Friday morning Casey came in the bathroom while I was getting ready...

Casey: Mama? (in a sweet whisper) I don't have any clean socks.
Me: Well, borrow some from Chan.
Casey: Chan doesn't have any clean socks either.
Me: Well then, you'll have to wear dirty ones. Dig some out of your laundry basket.

That was yesterday. This morning I went in the girls' room to get their hampers and start the weekend laundry.

Casey: You should take Chan's first. Her lid won't even close. (And this is true. Clothes were spilling out of her hamper.)
Me: (while picking up the hamper) Girls. There are three dirty socks and a pair of dirty underwear on the floor in between your beds. This is why you don't have any clean socks.
Chan: What? Where?
Me: (while walking out of the room) And there is another pair of dirty socks over here by the door.
Me: (while stepping out in the hallway) And there is another pair of dirty socks in the hallway.
Casey: What do you mean there are dirty socks in the hallway? (her voice was dripping with 8 year old bratty-ness What do I mean there are dirty socks in the hallway? This is not a statement that requires analysis or interpretation. I mean there are dirty socks...in the hallway!)
Me: What I mean is, open your damn eyeballs, there are dirty friggin socks in the hallway!

Yep. That was my Leo moment. It happens sometimes. And I can't really apologize for it. I put the laundry in the wash. They picked up the dirty socks (I think...I hope). I came downstairs and said to Chris, "I can't believe I just told my 8 year old to 'open her damn eyeballs'." Chris replied, "I knew it was coming, I just didn't think it would be over dirty socks."

And this is the tale of the dirty socks.

2 comments:

Donna Kay said...

I hate socks period! The girls can never find a pair of socks to wear. They take them offf anywhere and everywhere and they never seem to make it in the laundry basket. Glad I am not the only one who goes through the dirty sock saga!

molly said...

"EYEBALLS!"