I couldn’t find my jeans. I was in a hurry since I had a “meeting” and waited till the last minute to get ready. Story of my life.
I raced to the laundry room, maybe my jeans were in there. My son was home doing his laundry. I glanced at the piles of clean and folded laundry. (He’s way too neat. Didn’t get it from me.)
“Are my jeans in here somewhere?”
He pulled a load from the dryer. “Here, these are your.”
There on top were my jeans. I grabbed them figuring I didn’t have time to handle the whole load right then. Besides if I leave them he’ll put them away later.
“Hey,” his voice stopped me, “take the whole load, they’re all yours.”
“You sound just like my mother.” I said, grabbing the bundle of clothes, not meaning this as a compliment.
To which my son replied, “Funny, you sound just like mine.”
