So this morning I woke up to a naked 3 yr old cuddled up next to me, 1 boy in shorts only, and 2 boys in their dun-da-duns in the front room. (That's what we call undies around here. Think of the sound a super hero makes and you should be able to sound it out.) I thought to myself, for at least the millionth time, "When did I move into a nudist colony?" At any given time in the day there is at least one child in underwear only. It started with our second oldest son. We would always joke that you could tell where Kurt had been upon returning home, simply by following the trail of discarded clothes. Shoes & socks by the front door (not too abnormal), shirt on the couch (boys often run around without their shirts, right?), pants on a dining room chair (yeah, I have no comment for that one.) And for some unknown reason, a trip to the bathroom warrants a complete strip-down (perhaps it's more comfortable?) Now my oldest is the only, er, normal one and because he's the only one who doesn't share my genes, my darling husband somehow thinks they get this from me. Now where on earth would he get such an idea?
Oops, someone's coming, guess I should find where I tossed my top & pants. Night all.