My children are insane.
It's just the three of us tonight, since my husband is working nights this week. I have a routine on nights like this, and we just finished the shower portion of our program. My 3 year old was passing very audible gas, with the accompanying hilarity typical for any episode of flatulence in our house. When I asked him if he needed to go to the bathroom, he said "NO! I just have the FARTS! I DO NOT need to go NUMBER 2! Because I JUST HAVE THE FARTS! Did you hear my farts? Wanna hear another fart?"
The level of discourse continued in this elevated fashion, as my older son, wrapped in a towel, requested another towel. Why, I asked? For my head, he said. OK, I'm a busy woman. Kid wants a towel, give him a towel, I don't have time for additional discussion. I'm slightly dismayed as he drapes the towel veil-like over his hair, raising his arms and chanting "I am the LORD of all of you! I am your LEADER!" He didn't offer me Kool-Aid; if he does, I'll say "no thanks".
Dry and dressed, the little one sees his brother's underpants and decides that he doesn't want to wear THESE underpants, he wants OTHER underpants. Before I can make any (sure to be futile, but still) attempt to reason with him, he's gone, half undressed and digging through the clean laundry that I've just folded. I'm hanging towels and other cult-leader garments and I hear the little one chortling to himself. "Dis is gonna be funny!" he says. It IS funny. He's found the underpants he wants, and he's wearing them outside his pajama pants. Tee hee. I'd have preferred that the ones he's wearing on his head were not mine, but at least they're clean. My work is finished.