Laundry and Such

Ah, there's nothing like falling asleep to a good book!  We're glad that Raleigh has caught the fire of reading.

Then there's Choobers here with oats on her head.  She had just had a bath- phooey.  She took off her bib by herself and thought the oats she had spread everywhere were hilarious.  They were.

Here's three sillies in the tub.  Nothing like everyone getting in the tub to get the giggles out!  Madeline taught Kensington how to say "hi" to her reflection in the chrome.  I personally got soaking wet.

The other night Dallas' parents were over at our house, and Ray was the lucky one to go into the bathroom where SOMEONE had not replaced the empty toilet paper roll.  He came into the living room to find out who the last person was in the bathroom, to which Madeline informed us, "I was the last one in there, but I didn't use any!"  Toilet paper, that is. 

Here's a random poem about my evening:

The ridges and rills of laundry hills

Ere once had lined my wall,

Taken from the dryer and then

Tossed into the hall,

Now lie in wait in plastic baskets

Folded, piled, (not pressed).

My only prayer, Dear Lord, next morn

Is that no one will get dressed.

And THAT's how I feel about laundry these days.  And why it comes out in the form of third-grade poetry I have yet to understand.