A week ago I was folding laundry in our bedroom while watching some Lifetime movie. Mike was playing Call of Duty in our back room (where his closet is) and because I didn't want to bother him in the middle of a mercenary killing, I hung his clothes on hangers and laid them on a chest in our bedroom.
Throughout the week I intended to pick the clothes up off the chest and take them into his closet but life (and All my Children) preoccupied me.
I finally remembered to pick them up this afternoon and as I did so, I realized there was an empty hanger resting on top of the other clothes. The following conversation ensued:
"Did you wear something that was laying here?"
"Um, yeah. I think so."
"So you saw your clothes sitting here—ON HANGERS—and instead of helping me out and taking them to your closet, you selected a shirt, removed it and put it on?"
"Um, yeah. I guess so."
"This is why we don't have a baby yet. God looks down on us every now and again and thinks, Why is that woman so desperate for a child? SHE ALREADY HAS ONE."
"Baby, I'm trying to watch the game. Could you yell from the other room?"