The dryer at our apartment complex sucks. So, as usual, I was hanging up the baby clothes (seriously--it couldn't dry a 3/4 load of baby laundry), and J comes up to me, and starts taking clothes out of the basket and draping them on the rack. I was so happy! He's been watching Dave and I and is trying to help! I thank him and he keeps helping....until we get to the bottom of the basket.
He takes the last few clothes out and throws them on the floor. He then upends the basket onto his head and runs off giggling.
Edited: Now he's wormed his way into the drying rack, and is watching VeggieTales from the safety of his fort, sitting on a small carpet of clean spit-up rags and pajama pants.
ha-ha. I just remember when "forts" were the rage in our home also.
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