Laundry Day is a Sad, Sad, Day

This is the routine we go through every Monday, which is the dreaded day of laundry at my house. I try to sneak Corbie's favorite fuzzy purple blankie into the washing machine without her noticing. More often than not, her "blankie sixth sense" brings her running and she catches me in the act. This is what follows:

Stage 1: Anger. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE WASHING MY BLANKIE! YOU ARE A CRUEL, CRUEL WOMAN! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?!? I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!!"

Phase 2: Waiting. "Is it done yet? Is it done yet? Is it done yet?"

Phase 3: Grudging Thanks: "Yes, Mom, my blankie is soft, clean, warm and smells like a spring breeze. But if you think I am ever going to let you near it again, you are out of your mind."

See you next week, blankie.