Weekends mean laundry time at our house. Oddly enough, Bree loves to help out on laundry day, as I’ve mentioned before. She likes to walk down to the laundry room with us, carry a few things from the washer to the dryer, and “fold” as well. (Which actually means romping around like a puppy in the laundry pile while Travis and I frantically fold as fast as we can.)
Today when we got ready to drag our laundry down the hall we said, “Come on Brianna, help us with the laundry.” “Okay, just a minute. My potato wants to come,” she said back. By that of course she meant Mr. Potato Head. Problem was that Mr. Potato Head was not ready to go. So, Bree made us stand there while she very carefully put him together with the eyes, nose, mouth, arms, hat, and feet all in the correct places. Finally, Mr. Potato Head was assembled and she was ready to go. We started to head down the hallway when Bree said, “Mom, carry me!” “I can’t carry you, I’m carrying this,” I pointed to the laundry detergent in my left hand. “Mom,” she said, pointing to my right hand, “You can carry me in this hand.” Well, no fooling that one….
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