…it’s the first day of the week!
Eer, what? Sorry, I’ve got The Wiggles in my head – or more specifically, the (dreaded) Wiggly Waffles on ABC (here’s hoping my fellow Australian mums know what I’m ranting about).
Apart from the fact that Monday is my day to fold the (ever mounting pile of) laundry, Monday is actually one of my favourite days of the week.
For one thing, the boys and I don’t have anything on on a Monday. Which means we don’t have to go out. Which means I don’t have to think about the two hats, six nappies, two bottles of formula, one bottle of milk, two bottles of water, two dummies, two dummy clips, one bib, two bananas, half a dozen Kruskits and a million sultanas that I normally have to contend with before we head out the door. (Did I say a million? I meant a billion.)
I also don’t have to get dressed. For a very, very long time. As long as possible in fact. What’s that, honey? People are coming over after dinner? Fine, I’ll brush my teeth and get out of my sweatpants. (Only kidding – we’re all about oral hygiene here at Casa Mason.)
But more importantly, Angus and I get some precious one-on-one time together while the two younger boys do their morning naps. Some days we read. Some days we watch Postman Pat together. Some days we build entire cities out of wooden blocks. Some days we play hide and seek in my wardrobe (that’s him hiding and me lying on the bed – not falling asleep of course). Some days he even helps me fold the laundry.
So in the spirit of this ‘number one’ day, let me ask you this: When do you fold your laundry?
(Or the question behind the question: How long between folding and putting away?)