We've been working a lot on redoing our living room (painting, installing new bookshelves, razor-scraping the paint I've dripped on the floor in defiance of the dropcloth) and so are behind on our laundry.
Which meant that last night, which was cool enough to sleep with the a/c off, saw us left without pj shorts for Samson.
We tried this the other night --- why, I don't know, since there was no shorts-shortage then --- and the results were not pretty.
But as I checked the pajama drawer and then the other drawers [I don't always remember to put things where they "go"] and came up empty, I knew we had to go for it.
And you know what? We totally did.
Not exactly a Kipling moment there in the nursery, but I bet he had all sorts of governesses and ayahs taking care of his kids.
Anyway, before we went to bed, Vicki checked in on Samson. He was sleeping soundly, his little body sprawled across the crib mattress, La-La tucked securely under his arm. So far, so good.
This morning dawned cool and clear and, most importantly, clean-cribbedly. It really is the little victories in life that mean the most.
This also means I'll probably procrastinate on laundry for at least one more day. [We've got enough onesies to outfit a small (a very small) army.]
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