Today is Labor Day. A day invented for me to work, according to my seventeen-year-old son. One of those for thee but not for me deals.
Genius rolled out of bed around 10:00 a.m. Right after I had finished folding the laundry in the living room. "You have underwear and socks and shorts to put away."
"Great. I have to DO something?"
"It's not like you had to wash and dry and fold them. How about you go in the kitchen and wash the dishes for me?"
"You are ridiculous." Genius grabbed a stack of underwear off the mantel over the fake electric fireplace. "What's the deal with this green pair? I told you I never had a green pair."
"Nobody else wears that tagless kind. I'm sure they came in a package with colors you like better, and you just never wore them until you ran out of the others."
"Nooo...I told you, I used to have a gray pair, and now I don't. But I have this green pair."
"I don't know what you are insinuating. That I took your gray underwear and put a pair of green in its place? For all I know, you switched underwear with one of your buddies."
"I guarantee you THAT didn't happen." Genius picked up his phone to call Hick and ask him to bring back a camera battery from Walmart. He slid his fingers across the face of the phone. "I like how I can punch in '666' and it comes up 'Mom'."
Funny how a slice of life reveals that the fruit of your labor is rotten to the core.