We're back from a week long trip to Idaho, and the laundry is overflowing. I think the final number of loads yesterday was 10. On the way home from school I asked the kids to help me with some of the folding. We got home, the usual after-school chaos began and I forgot about my request. Eventually I made it upstairs and found that the latest load had been pulled from the dryer and was folded on my bed. I smiled, because I knew that Conner was the one who secretly, quietly went about this act of service. Then as I began to leave the room something caught my eye . . . . . a note.
You can thank me later.