The Dad-inator

Today is laundry day.  The frustration level of this day has grown for me in proportion to Paxton's age.  You see, my wonderful little boy just tries so hard to be helpful ... the key word being "tries."  He's convinced that if I'm sorting the laundry he needs to "help" me by moving clothes from one pile to another.  And then, once the laundry has been washed and dried, Paxton likes to "help" me by removing the folded clothes from the basket and throwing them on the floor for me.  He also thinks that running under my clothes rack while my work clothes are air drying is just the cat's pajamas or the bee's knees, or whatever saying the kids are using today.  It's even better if he can manage to knock said work clothes (which are comprised of a lot of black clothes) onto the floor to pick up Maggie's dog hair (which is mostly white).  Like I said ... frustrating.

So this evening I was hiding in our bedroom folding clothes.  Paxton couldn't "help" me since the door was closed and he hasn't added "door opening" to his repertoire yet.  Normally this situation would lead to a lot of yelling, some crying and a lot of banging on the bedroom door (mostly by Paxton).  But today was different thanks to the "Dad-inator."

Jay spent the 15 minutes it took me to fold the laundry chasing Paxton up and down the hallway with Paxton's Fisher Price popper toy all the while talking in an "Arnold as the Terminator" accent.  It was really quite hilarious.  The "dog-inators" even helped out by making sure that Paxton's Bedtime Bears didn't come to his aid.  Oh I wish there'd been a camera around.  I'm sure the visual was just as funny as I imagine it was.