Laundry Police

Brandon not only looks like Shaun, but he also appears to have inherited Shaun's temperament. They're both easy-going, sweet and rarely angry. They both have a very quiet sense of humor, and it's hard to make them laugh. And they have both been gifted with a look that's lets you know just what they think of you when you do something stupid.

I get to spend all day, every day with a little carbon copy of my husband, and I usually find this endlessly entertaining, but I was never more annoyed by how much Brandon reminds me of Shaun than I was one day last week.

I was sitting at my computer, minding my own business and everyone else's on Facebook, and Brandon walked up to me with his arms full of clothing. He shoved them into my arms, yelled, "Clothes!" and ran back into the laundry folding/piling room (known as the 'formal dining room' to the rest of the world) to grab another armful of clean laundry. He proceeded to shove those little shirts and pants at me, too, then grab my hand and drag me over to the laundry basket and point to it yelling, "Clothes!" again.

Who does he think he is? The laundry police? Is my 18-month-old trying to tell me something, or did Shaun put him up to this? Shaun doesn't actually drag me to the laundry basket and yell at me, but the look Brandon gave me had Shaun written all over it. I could just see Shaun's innocent look and his passive, "I see you didn't get a chance to fold the laundry..."

I started to get a little defensive, but then I realized I could totally use this to my advantage. I'm going to teach Brandon how to fold the laundry. And then I'm going to teach Kyle to vacuum while Natalie does the dishes. Easy street, here I come.