Recess: Stories From the Home Front

Recess means we take a break and play. It’s important to do that once in a while.


So. We were stopped for a lunch break during our eleven-hour drive back from holidays. I don’t remember what I was talking about, but it likely involved far more vocabulary exhibition and details than anyone else felt was warranted.

Daughter said to her brother, “Don’t you think Mom is being overly pedantic?”

I am otherwise occupied with my salad and asked, “How could someone be underly pedantic?”

Daughter rolled her eyes and added to her brother, “See what I mean?”


While I was still at university, hubby and son came to visit me overnight at my campus apartment. I lived 125 miles/ 200 kilometers west of them, and concerned about what to pack, hubby emailed me and asked,

“What’s the weather like in your apartment?”

(In my apartment?) I wonder, and replied: “Ambient daytime temperatures correllating with outside weather, cooling in the evening, with increasing dark. No rain predicted inside, aside from brief showers in the bathroom.”


I got back in town Friday evening, post-dinner. Unloaded my gear and then began throwing clothes through the laundry. Opened up the clothes dryer and find two towels, a pair of boy’s boxers, a tee shirt, and a pair of socks. Obviously not a full load. Mental gears turn, and I hollered over the foyer railing to my son in the office/computer area, “Hey!”


“Are you washing your clothes and then just pulling out the pieces as you need them?”

“Yeah. No one ELSE does laundry around here,” he explained, meaning his dad, the only other weekday resident.

I giggled; this is such an efficient geekboy thing to do: store the clean laundry in the dryer until needed. “I’m putting your clean stuff atop your dresser,”

“Okay,” answered my laconic son.


A recent dinner conversation, over a nice batch of tacos with sides of guacamole and pineapple:

Dad is hard of hearing, and for some possibly-unrelated reason sometimes uses the wrong word: “How was the walk home from school? Were the streets paved?”

Our son, defaulting to that aspie literal-minded thing: “Were the streets PAVED? Of course they were.”

Dad clarifies, “Was the snow shovelled.”

Son shrugs, “Sometimes.”

Dad, cheerfully: “It’s melted a bit.”

I can’t think of anything to say to this statement of the obvious. And you wonder why some of us just don’t get into chit-chat …



  1. meep said,

    21 May 2008 at 15:51

    As a teenager, I used a bookshelf instead of a dresser. It’s easier for me to figure out what I have if I can see it all at once. J

  2. Grace said,

    9 August 2007 at 12:07

    We don’t bother with laundry baskets for dirty clothes. Anything dirty goes straight into the washer, and we just do a wash when it fills up. Clean clothes then stay in the dryer until they’re used or they need to be moved out so a new load can be dried. :p I don’t see any reason to add extra steps to it…

  3. 14 December 2006 at 14:09

    Andrea, he actually has TWO dressers in his room, but he uses them mainly for lining up his various collections on top.

    I’m not sure what else could be substituted, but I’ll give that some thought. As for the second laundry basket, that’s a very good idea… thanks!

  4. qw88nb88 said,

    13 December 2006 at 23:11

    Sounds like the boy is simply using a laundry basket as a dresser drawer. Is there something you could substitute that makes more visual sense to you as a “clothing storage unit” yet has the same ease of access for him?

    The mom-as-behavioural-observer in me says that if the dirty clothes are consistently dumped on the closet floor, then a second laundry basket should be set there to receive them. That way they’re easily returned to the clothes washer for the next round! I did the same thing with hubby; it drove me nutz that his dirties kept piling up behind the bedroom door, so I got sensible and parked a basket there — instant domestic bliss! Well, mostly.

    Life’s much easier if you work WITH the natural behaviours of the organism of interest. (-:


  5. 13 December 2006 at 17:30

    LOL. My son washes his clothes, takes the basket back to his room, leaves the clean clothes in the basket (in the middle of his room) until needed, and throws the dirty clothes on the floor of his closet until he runs out of clean clothes and has to wash again.

    Oh well, maybe someday he’ll find a wife who is tidier…

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