The Fourth of July

Please be aware that there will be some language in this post:

Happy Fourth of July, everyone. 
(Well, all five of you that look at my blog...)

First, I would like to say that I really, really could do without parades.  I am a parade pooper.  Thank heavens that I have a wonderful husband that will take my kids every year.  Even when he worked a double shift yesterday, which ended at 3:30 this morning.  I really do love that guy.  We make a great team because where I am a slacker, he isn't, and where he is a slacker, I'm not.

So instead of the parade, I went shopping for dinner food.  It worked out well, because everyone else was at the parade.  Sweet. 

But when I came home, I was sorting laundry and the kid's rooms are right by where I sort the laundry.  I found myself looking around at all the kid induced scenes that were in front of my eyes and saying to myself:  "What the hell?!"  I wonder how many times in a week I say this to myself?  So many things I come across, IN MY OWN LIVING SPACE, don't make any sort of logical sense to me. 
I wonder if Spock would find the logic? 
I wonder if it even makes sense to them?

I just don't understand why you would have clean clothes and put them into the dirty laundry hamper. 

I also don't understand why you stuff everything into drawers, so that when you go to look for them, you have no idea where they are, and when you do find them they are wrinkled beyond recognition.

How many towels and washcloths should be used over the course of one day in the kitchen?  The children seem to be completely blind to the fact that there are any towels out in the room already and they get new ones out for everything, including wiping up milk.  You would think after all the towels that they fold, that they would figure it out.  But they don't.

Another one is, why are there clothes all over the parent's bathroom floor that belong to Elizabeth?

Why are there clean, folded towels all over the floor, very, very near to where they belong?

Why can't the children (some more than others) take their underwear out of their pants after they take them off?  Why can't you take your pants off first, and then your underwear?

I reallllly need to clean out the bad thoughts and learn to not say or think "What the hell?" when I see these type of things.  But it probably won't happen overnight.

AND I really must add a positive before I sign off:
I am very happy that my kids actually go to the pains of wearing underwear.  And if they don't wear underwear, I am blissfully unaware that they don't. 

So yeah, Happy Fourth of July!!