Saturday is laundry day at our house, but Monday is actually-finish-and-put-away-the-laundry day. An empty laundry basket is a magical thing to a young boy. It can transform into a race car, zooming down the track to the checkered flag finish. It can be a giant holding pen for a zoo of stuffed animals to an eager zoo keeper. It can be a tobaggan, pushed across the slick tiled floor at top speed, either to the glee or terror of the rider. This Monday it was a jail.
Mr. Three chased poor Mr. Four around my bedroom, attempting to trap him with the empty laundry basket. Every time my one year old sat down, thump! went the laundry basket, trapping him inside, while his captor peered through the holes and smiled.
While I repeatedly told Mr. Three that his little brother didn't seem to enjoy this game quite as much as he did, it continued. And I admit, I found it quite funny. I know I encouraged it when I brought out the camera. However, I think I made it up to Mr. Four by letting him trap his older brother for a little taste of his own medicine!
Mr. Four thought that this reversal was quite entertaining. I think even Mr. Three enjoyed it, too. Oh the simple joys of being little. Now, I need to get back to hanging up the last of the clean shirts...