Seriously, What Was I Thinking?

Yesterday, Malcolm woke early, and I heard the pitter patter of his little feet as his walked past our bedroom, to the living room. I heard him turn on his music (booted up the Rock Band Game on the Xbox) and expected to soon hear the pound-pound of his drum (our upside down laundry hamper together with the sticks from his xylophone.) But . . . . no bam-bam-bam. Hmm . . . then a moment later, he walked into our room. He stood beside the bed and looked into my sleep-fuzzied eyes. "Mommy, I need help. Daddy's dirty clothes are in my drum."

I wandered out to the living room, and indeed -- there was the hamper, right side up, filled with the load of dirty laundry that I never got a chance to wash the night before. Seriously, what was i thinking? Filling his drum with our dirty laundry! Bad Mommy, no biscuit.