Andrew came into our bedroom this morning complaining that he didn't have any clean pants. I knew all of the laundry was done and I also knew that I had seen clean pants in his pile as Emily was folding them.
I sent him back to his room and told him that he hadn't looked closely enough and to go get dressed. He walked away muttering about girls doing laundry which I ignored.
Stomping indignantly back into our room a few moments later, he held a pair of jeans folded in his hands. With a large flourish and a lot of disgust, he opened up the jeans and thrust them into my face so that I could clearly see the rhinestone flowers embroidered all over the back pockets.
"THESE are not my pants!"
When Tom and I could stop laughing and were able to see through the tears in our eyes, we looked up at him and he was still standing there holding the pants with total disdain and looking at the two of us like we had lost our minds. Which made us laugh even more.
And then I found him some other pants.