Losing our pants

The inside of one’s closet or drawer can say a lot about him or her. Take Andy, for example.  If you happen to look inside his dresser drawer, you will notice that everything is nicely folded in a special way, and lined up neatly according to some sort of system.  If you look in Bryce’s room, you will notice that there is no order in the drawers. In fact, the drawers rarely close, as clothes are spilling out of all of them. All kinds of clothes are in every drawer, except one, in which he keeps…books. He often complains of running out of clothes or not being able to find “any” clothes, even though there are many in plain sight.  Andy was constantly after Bryce to fix this problem. I cannot purport to be much better than Bryce and let it slide more than I should. My problem is that I could live out of a suitcase. forever. In fact, I probably would  live out of a suitcase if given the chance. It is just a good system for me. All things in one place, nicely folded, but in one place, easy to see, quick to put away. To make this work, there needs to be a limit on things. I can’t have 20 dresses or 14 pairs of jeans. (I don’t have either number of those things, btw). I don’t mind traveling for long periods of time and living out of a suitcase. Andy must unpack everything and use drawers, closets, etc. even if we are only going some place for a few days. I probably could have lived out of a suitcase my entire freshman year in the dorms. It would have made for a quick getaway. Anyway, the point is that right now, I have a dresser that I don’t even get around to. I’m basically living out of the laundry basket, which is like a suitcase, right? There are clothes I have that I forget that I have, because they are not in the laundry basket system.  That is a sign that I have too much! Life would be so much simpler if it would all fit in a laundry basket, wouldn’t it?

Speaking of clothes, yesterday was our ward Christmas party. After a very early soccer game in Watertown, I spent the day getting a lot of things ready. I had things in the oven timed precisely to finish so we could arrive 1/2 hour early to church and help with the setup.  That’s when we lost our pants, or rather our Trousers. When we noticed him gone, it had probably been 1 1/2 hours after the fact. That’s a long time for a meathead like him to be out and about. Gus was heartbroken. It was approximately 45 minutes until we were supposed to leave when we decided to pray and set out driving the neighborhood to find him. We drove around for a while without luck. As we were pulling into our driveway, consigned to give up the search and head to church, the MPs called to say that someone had found him in the apartments near our home.  He had been there wandering around on the 4th floor of the building.  As far as we can gather, he escaped by opening the door to the garage (left unlocked by the boys earlier that day) and had run through the open garage door, out of our neighborhood, down the street, opened up the apartment building’s doors, went up 4 flights of stairs and was looking for a party in a penthouse apartment, or something like that. We are all grateful to have our Trousers back. We still made it to church in time to help set up, and had a nice evening. I wonder if he peed inside.

A few weeks ago our home teacher came and taught the boys a new word: Misanthrope. He claimed he was one. I don’t know about him, but I think we definitely have some in this house. Well, maybe not misanthropes, but at the very least, anti-socialites. Whenever we are going to an event (like the ward Christmas party, or Cub Scouts, or a birthday party) the anti-socialism begins. I guess this is what the  future holds for me. Pre-teenagers with bad attitudes.  Awesome. And the whining doesn’t stop there.  I have been trying to gather the family each night for our scripture study. We are doing an advent type countdown until Christmas. Bryce refers to it as the “witchcraft” ritual, and claims that we will next dance around a fire and chant. He is so anxious to be finished he says, “Ok. Can we say a prayer now?” about 50 times before we are finished each night.  I deserve more gray hair.

 

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