This past Saturday, the Hubs took Bug and Gizmo out shopping. I spent a glorious morning cleaning the kitchen....and sitting on the couch browsing Facebook on my tablet. When they got home, Hubby made lunch, and then took the kids out AGAIN (despite the drizzly, cold day) to have an "adventure" out in the trees behind our house. Apparently, they looked at holes in the ground and built a lean-to.
When all the boys were back in the house, Gizmo took off his shoes and socks. He is really good at putting his shoes away, and his socks into the dirty laundry hamper (which is through the kitchen, in the laundry room).
Off Gizmo went to take care of his socks, when all the sudden I hear him crying dramatically in the kitchen. He came into the living room and settled onto my lap in a ball of tears.
"What's wrong!!!???" I asked, "Are you hurt?"
"What happened? Why are you crying? Are you sad about something?"
"Yeah. My socks!" it was kind of hard to understand what he was saying, through all the tears.
"Yeah!" more crying.
"What happened to your socks? Did you put them in the laundry?"
"No. My socks in garbage!" even more crying. Really, very dramatic, very sad crying.
"You threw your socks in the garbage?" I'm beginning to understand, and I am amused.
"Yeeeeah." another breakdown of tears.
So Gizmo had accidentally put his socks in the garbage, instead of the laundry. And he was very upset about it. Especially since the trash had been taken out recently and he couldn't reach the socks on his own, to move them to the laundry. I'm sorry to say I burst out laughing once I understood what happened. Poor kid.
I tried to console Gizmo as I asked Hubby to retrieve the socks. Once Gizmo knew that his socks had been safely moved to their proper location, he calmed down pretty quickly. And with a sniffly, quivering voice, he said "thank you" to his father, for saving his socks.