Monday, January 9, 2012

Getting metal...

Warning:  This is one of those intimidating housekeeping posts I was warning you about. 

The writing curriculum we use (Writing With Ease) involves listening to literary passages, answering questions about the content and coming up with a summary of what you've just heard.  Jacob has a problem with daydreaming while I'm reading the passage and then having no idea what I'm talking about when I ask the questions. 

Recently, our passage began:
Today is Monday, today is Monday.
Monday, wash day.
All you happy people, we sing the same to you!

Today is Tuesday, today is Tuesday.
Tuesday, iron.
Monday, wash day.
All you happy people, we sing the same to you! ...

After reading the passage, ...
Me:  What happens on Tuesday?
Jacob:  They get metal.
Me:  (internal monologue)  Grrrr.  He wasn't listening AGAIN.  Ugh.  I don't feel like reading that whole stupid poem again.  Wait a minute.  Metal.  Iron...  He has no idea what ironing is.  He's never seen me do that.  Ba, ha, ha, ha.

To commemorate this hilarious conversation (half of it in my head, I know), I took a skirt - one that I love but have been unable to wear for two years because it's horribly wrinkled - and ironed it and wore it to church that week. 


  1. My mom ironed my underwear (Papa)

  2. I've ironed as many pairs of their underwear as you did mine.


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