This weekend I was in Aubry's room and I noticed that her laundry basket was missing from her closet. Looking around the house availed no clues so I asked her where it was, but all I received were hunched shoulders and an "I don't know". A few hours later I was looking for her shoes (which she loses often) and upon looking under the bed, I found the basket in question:
Taking her aside, I confronted her in my stern-mommy manner and I was met with a demeanor that told me that, not only did she think this was funny, but that I should find it funny too. Honestly, in spite of the fact she lied to me and failed to put away her laundry when I told her to, I was cracking up on the inside, but any good mom knows that you cannot let that be known. Lucky for me, my hubby was home so I called him in to deal with my smirking gal. He was only able to get a couple of words out of his mouth before Aubry was practically a pile on the floor, tears of sorrow and regret streaming down her cheeks.
Now I have to wonder why I can't get that kind of respect? (The previous sentence should be read in the best Rodney Dangerfield voice that you can muster.) Why is it that me, the mommy, is greeted with laughter and an "aren't I funny gal" kind of countenance, while the daddy is met with a "I am so sorry for disappointing you" attitude? Ah, the unfairness of it all!
Today is Monday and in my house that is laundry day, and with five kids the piles are high, but I am considering taking a cue from my little one and stuffing it somewhere. With piles so big I may have to remove the pool cover in order to have a place to stash it all, but at least it will take my dear family a while to find it. All I will have to do it to plead innocence and when Craig finds it just turn on the waterworks and all will be well.
Have a happy Monday!
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