What is it about underwear that five year old boys find fascinating? My two children are on spring break here in our fair city. After a few days of running wild, it is now clean up the house day. We live in a two story home, and getting laundry from the top to the bottom can be a real chore…especially if you only do laundry once a week…or so. I know fly-lady says, “a load a day will keep laundry blues away.” Such organization, is lost to my creative mindset. When someone invents a fun way to do laundry everyday, maybe I will.
Perhaps, a slot machine washer…that rewards the beleaguered housewife with spa tokens every load completed.
For me, it’s not over-stuffing the washer or transfer to the dryer that I despise. I can even handle the folding (if I have a great movie on). No, the bain of laundry, is stuffing the drawers….
Conversation with my nine year old daughter…..
“Go upstairs and get dressed….we are already late!”
“I don’t know what to wear ….will you pick it out for me?”
“You never like anything I pick out, so no.”
“But mommmm….I promise, this time I will wear whatever you pick.”
“uh-uhhhh…” (add whimpering puppy dog sound effects, complete with blinking and pouted lips)
…… 3 cute shirts and several jeans later…
“But I don’t like any of those.”
“Then pick it out yourself, we are beyond late now.”
Danger, Danger!!! This is the moment that all my hard work is about to be overturned, crumpled, thrown on the floor and generally smashed onto the top sedimentary layer of Barbie shoes and Polly pockets. It is why I despise laundry. I mean, truly you are just rewashing clothes never worn. The ones they do wear, they are willing to wear dirty because they are the “Only cool things I have!”
Which gets us back to the five year old. In order to make laundry day more exciting, I have reinvented the laundry chute. One sibling stands on the top landing, and the other at the bottom of the stairs. The one at the top upends their laundry baskets over the head of the sibling squealing with delight below. It keeps them occupied for at least an hour. After they dump all the laundry down, they rake up the fallen clothes into a big pile and jump into them… (palm trees don’t allow for fall leaf piles…so this is novel to them. )
After a while, you are supposed to switch positions (equal opportunity tormentor)…my daughter however, refuses to give up the power position. My son, wanting to dump out his clothes on her head, starts demanding surrender. After unsuccessful threats and pleas, he decides to take action. As the cascade of clothing falls on his head, he picks out his underwear from the stream and starts taunting his sister above with them.
“Underwear, Underwear, Unnndder-ware” gleefully, he takes steps two at a time.
“Noooooo,” she squawks, and starts to run into the castle keep.
He sings, “Dirty underwear….dirty unnndderware” and cuts her off at the pass
gagging sounds…. as it is dangled in front of her nose
“My dirty underwear…it touched my privates.” he laughs, flicking it at her… he has invented a weapon more powerful than the super soaker. A little brother’s equivalent of a plague victim being catapulted over castle walls.
“OOOO, it touched me!…..MOM, he threw his underwear on me.
I laugh. I am an evil mom, I find the whole thing hilarious, and can’t hold even close to a poker face. I remember similar exchanges between me and my little brother. I wish that I would have thought of a weapon that powerful.
“MOOOOMMM, stop laughing.”
“Why? It was funny, now give your brother a turn upstairs.”
Hmmppfff….said in the way only an 7 3/4 year old can… complete with upturned nose, eye roll and back turn. She plops down on the floor and waits for the clothes to cascade down.
My son has a highly developed sense of the dramatic. Instead of a fabric waterfall, he sends a constant drip of shirts, pants, socks (ewww)…
and of course scooby doo underoos…piece by piece.