Spice calls the laundry basket in their bathroom the “dirty hamper.” I think she’s onto something. No matter how often I do laundry, it seems like the dirty clothes are piled to the ceiling every time I go to wash another load. I am convinced there’s some little creature hiding in the bottom of the hamper who occasionally shouts out, “go forth and multiply!” to the various articles of clothing tossed in. Of course, this rule does not apply to socks. Those bastards simply go missing.
Besides being nearly suffocated from the pile of clothes requiring laundering, it was a relatively quiet weekend. The girls went to see my parents, then opted to stay overnight. Fine by me, I got my homework turned in before noon today. Twelve hours ahead of my usual schedule.
I picked the girls up in the early afternoon and headed to Walmart for a few necessities. It’s never a good thing to run out of toilet paper! I knew I was going to be in for a long, cranky afternoon when Spice asked to sit in the cart. She’s almost five and hasn’t wanted to sit in the cart since she figured out that all the stuff on the shelves can be played with, perhaps even accidentally tossed into the cart. Sugar begged for 512 different items, Spice insisted on going up and down every toy aisle to check out all the toys she’s seen in commercials. We got a few touch-up items for Halloween costumes, the emergency items on our list and beat feet out of there.
The afternoon and evening were fun-filled with fighting, arguing, pushing and shoving. Most time spent with the girls these days seems to involve more refereeing than anything else. Is there anything that CAN’T be fought about? The first throwdown occurred over Sugar’s room. Spice was helping her clean, but wasn’t doing it in an “organized and orderly fashion.” Where does Sugar get that bossiness and OCD from? Hm.
Then I get a phone call from the President of the PTA of Sugar’s school. Seriously, do they try to recruit over the phone now? No, even worse… Sugar had recently sold hundreds of dollars worth of cheap crap for a fundraiser and someone’s check got returned, not because it bounced, but because the account doesn’t exist. Who the hell writes a check for cheap crap on a nonexistent account? Apparently Mrs. PTA attempted to reach the woman to collect the $16 plus $15 returned check fee, but the woman hasn’t paid up yet, so they’d like me to collect from her. I don’t even really know this woman. The director of Spice’s daycare took the book and passed it around and a bunch of teachers bought stuff. How does one collect funds? Do I need to bring my piñata buster from work when I pick Spice up tomorrow?
The house is again blissfully quiet. The UFC contenders are snug in their beds, too tired tonight to even shout from their respective rooms. The dishes are done, and there’s yet another load of laundry to be folded and put away. I’m seriously considering asking EN to install some sort of camera in the dirty hamper so I can keep an eye on the action. I could make some serious coin. I bet there’s a huge market for laundry porn.