This morning at the bus stop, Thing Three exclaimed that he was still wearing his retainer. Since he only needs to wear it while he’s sleeping, the request was that I carry it back to the house when he gets on the bus. “I’ll dry it for you,” he says helpfully, swinging his huge arms around in the cool, dark air.
I debated internally and even opened my mouth to insist that he just wear the dang thing today, when I remembered that the mate for this one is currently in a landfill somewhere after being accidentally thrown out at lunch.
I opened my freshly gloved hand, having just minutes before replaced my ratty-looking mittens that I’ve had for at least a decade and haven’t lost and Dada’s mended them for me at least twice and can you tell I’m proud of myself, and did indeed carry a dry-ish retainer back into the house and placed it in its case.
The things we do for love and money…
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