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The Royal Treatment

My son trotted down stairs in a turquoise bathrobe.  His sister’s.  At which time I took a closer look and started asking questions–like… Are you wearing underwear?  Is it the real kind?  I even sought clarification.  Are you sure it’s not one of your invisible pairs?

At which time he flashed a corner of red undies and all seemed well.

Until my daughter chirped, “but they’re wet.”

“Wet?  Wha..?”  I turned to her.  “How would you know?”

“I asked him,” she explained, “if he wanted me to warm up his underwear for him.”

I looked at my son.  He nodded.

“And so,” she said, “I soaked them for him in hot water.”

I smiled at my son whose nether regions were turning to raisins.  He smiled back and said, “and they’re still warm.”


2 Responses to “The Royal Treatment”

  1. Ruth Slagowski says:

    Thank you for the Christmas letter and family pic! I thought we were all done with the “who left the empty box of crackers in the pantry?” or “who spilled the glass of water all over the counter?” or my favorite, “who untwisted the faucet in the bathroom so the water was shooting up to the ceiling?” When our kids were small we blamed it on the “elves” because it certainly wasn’t either of them…..!!! Well, the elves are back and apparently they are visiting your house too 🙂

    If you ever write a book -PLEASE DO- I am buying a copy for everyone I know. Thank you for bringing a smile to my face and more importantly, to my heart whenever I read your posts….. <3

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