The other day, I washed the same load of laundry for the THIRD time because I was just too lazy to take the clothes out of the washer and put them in the dryer. Every time I went to switch loads, I realized they had that “stale clothes musty funk” so I re-washed them, only to forget about them for another day or two. And repeat. And repeat.
And then there was the time I was too lazy to iron my son’s shirt so I just went over his collar a little bit with my hair straightener. What? It sort of worked!
It occurred to me that parenting can sometimes look a little like a bad movie about living in a frat house. From the circles under our eyes, our unkempt appearances, our horribly dirty cars, worn socks strewn around our houses and foul smells emanating from our garbage pails, parents might seem half a step removed from uncivilized in their lowest and laziest moments, at least judging by appearances.
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