Quickie: Noah, is there something you want to tell me?

I do a load of laundry almost every day (don't we all?). Noah makes it his priority to "help" me.

It goes something like this:

I fold. I sort. I stack.

Noah sneaks up, looks me in the eye, slaps his hand on a perfectly folded, sorted stack of laundry and waits. The moment I turn my head, he strikes, sweeping my clean stack onto the floor or whisking the top items off the stack to run around the room with them, emitting gleeful giggles as he goes.

Earlier this week I was intrigued by his choice of bounty—mommy's raggedy old, used-to-be-white bra. After stealing it from the stack, he wore it proudly around his next for a good 15 minutes, almost like a necklace.

It's nice to know my manly man also has a softer side...