"Uh-oh!" he says as he's changing clothes last night."What's wrong, son?" I ask, coming out into the hallway.
And he's standing there with the hamper open attempting to stuff his jeans onto the already overflowing pile of clothes.
"Looks like we need to do the laundry," he smirks.
"WE?!?!" I say, staring him down.
"Sorry, Mama," he says, "I meant YOU."
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