Tonight I was sitting in the rocking recliner in the family room, a place I rarely sit anymore. If I’m not working at my desk, I’m upstairs. But I was sitting downstairs in the family room tonight while chatting on the phone with my friend MaryKay.
As we talked, something caught my eye. Puzzled, I stood, crossed the room and pulled that corner chair from the wall to reveal a hidden pile of clothing.
A quick examination revealed the pile to be my 13-year old’s stash of dirty clothes.
Apparently, he’s been getting dressed in the mornings in the family room–he’s the only one awake at that early hour–and he’s been discarding the shorts and t-shirts he wears to bed behind the chair, out of sight to everyone except an eagle-eyed person sitting in the rocking recliner.
Now I understand why he’s had trouble finding shorts to wear even though I’ve been keeping up with the laundry.
Kids are so weird.