It was just another Wednesday evening. Opting to pick my battles that week, I had temporarily capitulated - the Laundry Battle wasn't worth it. Or so I thought.
Woman proposes. Universe disposes.
With all of Oggie's pants in the hamper, muddy and beyond an acceptable second chance, it was either send him in Ana's pants or sew a new one that evening. I was leaning towards Ana's pants when this little voice in my head chastised me.
As I gathered the grass-stained socks and musty wet towels, mechanically probing for special rocks and carefully saved dandelions in the pants pockets, Oggie materialized beside me squealing, "I want to help you do the laundry, Mama! I want to go with you!"
So, off we went, the two of us, down the stairs, when a jaunty refrain caught me by surprise coming from the resident youngest, "♫Andrew Jackson got rid of all the Indians...♫"
"What? Who got rid of ALL the who now?" I asked with deliberate innocence.
"Andrew Jackson, Mama, he was a President. And, not ALL the Indians, Mama. Not your family in India. Don't worry. You are East Indian. He got rid of the other kind of Indians who lived in America", came the prompt and confident explanation.
Not bothering to suppress the unbridled laughter, I quietly accepted the influence of birth order, knowing how obsessed Ana was about John Coulton's Presidents as she started wading her way through the Encyclopedia of the Presidents and their times.
And how nice it is to have bite-sized anecdotes and tidbits handed down from Papa to Ana to Og, who retains and regurgitates with gusto.
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