It's laundry day today, which means I'm sniffing a lot of detergent.
Do you want to know something? There is nothing, nothing, nothing that makes me happier than finding my kids voluntarily reading, and this is not just because reading is a known deterrent of being strangled by your mother.
So when I found some of my kids reading on their own this week, with no bribes or threats in force, I ran to document it with my camera, and then immediately opened my windows and announced it to all of Amsterdam.
Hey, you people on the bikes! My kids are reading books-- I think it might be an emergency. What should I do? I need an iPad or some kind of electronic device, STAT!
Crappy cell phone pictures, and proof that two of my children are still alive.
Speaking of phones, my phone up and died a while ago, and when it was finally fixed, all my photos and contacts were lost.
I know what you're thinking: why didn't you put all your crap in the cloud?
And my response is: your mom puts all her crap in the cloud.
Because I'm really mature like that. Also because I'm a technologyphobe and I don't even know what "the cloud" is or how to "put" all your crap "there."
In fact, there is nothing like techie stuff that makes me want to drive the nearest ice pick right into my eye, and it's the main reason why I don't keep many ice picks around. The lesser reason is because I don't know what the actual intended use for ice picks is, besides for murder and eye gouging.
However, ice picks are very low-tech, and therefore place higher on my list of favorites than just about anything with a cord. A big plus is that they don't require understanding anything about platforms, apps, cookies, widgets, gluten, or why Miley Cyrus and her tongue have invaded the internet. Some of those things might not be technology related-- I don't really know, I'm just covering my bases.
If I had been alive 100 years ago, I would have been the one eyeing the newfangled "washing machine" with distrust and saying, "get thee behind me Satan!"
Eventually, I come around-- I'm now a washing machine proponent, though I would describe myself more as pro-hygiene. And if you happen to be my 8 year old son, you might think I am the biggest supporter of clean socks and underwear around. You might think I am on some sort of crusade to make you change your dirty socks and underwear every day. And you would be right, though you would probably use more descriptive terms, such as "the poopiest, worst mom ever." And then I might respond "no, your underwear is the poopiest, worst-smelling thing ever, so take them off right now so I can put them in the washing machine."
In that sense, I am a very outspoken supporter of technology.
Back to sniffing detergent.