Last night Mike had a game, and Noah had practice. So this morning, the kids and I were folding baseball laundry. I was intentionally, secretly, avoiding the jock strap, because....ok, I admit it. Jock straps, in general, disgust me. It doesn't matter if they're clean or dirty, being worn or sitting in a drawer. They're gross. I know that's illogical, but it's just one of my little quirks.
Sarah picked it right up and said, "Ooooo, I get to fold Daddy's jock strap! That's a rare treat!" She was truly delighted, for some reason. Then Noah asked, "Why is it called a jock strap anyway? Aren't jocks those little guys who ride horses?" That led into an amusing, but totally unbloggable conversation. I'm sure you can imagine. :)
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