Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today.
- Mark Twain
The lady of the house was out of town this weekend, so everything quickly went to you-know-where in a hand-basket.
Me, my son and the dog returned to our natural state of boys-will-be-boys behavior, which is why we spent our time walking around the house in boxer shorts and T-shirts, heating up frozen pizzas for breakfast (not that odd when you consider we didn't get up until lunchtime) and watching ball games and Comedy Central on the big TV in the den.
We even decided to get in touch with nature, which - if the neighbors must know - was why we were sitting on the back deck in mismatched "leisure wear" feeding the squirrels.
We did this by gathering up a little pile of acorns from the oak in the corner of the yard, then firing them with a slingshot at any squirrel silly enough to get within range.
The dog, in particular, thought this was great fun, because the squirrels apparently taunt him during the day by playing on the deck while he's stuck inside watching them through the window.
As soon as someone gets home in the afternoon, the terrier wants out the back, but he's not fast enough.
The squirrels quickly head up into the trees and laugh at him in those little chittering squirrel sounds, which is probably pretty insulting if you're a dog.
Anyway, he thought it only fitting that the squirrels were now getting their bushy bottoms plunked with our nut missiles.
After awhile, our frivolity began to get boring and with Sunday looming, we decided not to be complete reprobates and looked around the house for some sort of in-house community service to perform.
We settled on laundry because - unlike scrubbing the bathtubs - it doesn't involve a lot of exertion.
We also needed clean underwear.
That's why we quickly loaded the washing machine full, hit a couple of buttons, turned a knob or two, then settled down for some more TV.
Well, that didn't work out.
As some of you are might already know, if you wash white underwear with maroon towels and red T-shirts and some crimson napkins left over from last Christmas, things don't all come out white.
Now we've got pink dish-towels, pink bath towels and ... I blush to admit - pink boxer shorts.
I think I hear the squirrels laughing again.