​This story is titled “My Son, the Butthole”.

Last Thursday night, I put a few things in the washer; my jeans, shorts, a few other random items and his, oh so special, fabulously colored draaaaws.  As I went to bed I asked, “Please get the stuff out of the washer tomorrow. Nothing dries, hang it all. I’m working all weekend.”  
I worked doubles Friday and Saturday. Sunday, I came home, took him to sushi and promptly passed out.  Today, I go to get my clean shorts and discover (almost) EVERYTHING still in the washer. 

My Son, the Butthole, took out ONE PAIR of clean, dry, pizza print draaaaws last night. Thank Thor it all dried on its own in there!!  Why didn’t I think of this method??

Now, I’m re-washing the load.  I’d like to thank my son for taking butthole-ism to a whole new level.  

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