Synth-y Black

We were running a bit behind on laundry this week—not even all laundry! Just some! Our main issue was that we made Benjamin deep clean his room and he had laundry piles secreted away everywhere. For example, I found a box on his shelf, nestled in among his books. What's inside? Dirty clothes. Why? Because packing them in a cardboard box and fitting that box on his book shelf was "easier" than simply tossing them in the laundry basket. For real.

(This is the same child who carved his name into the top of the mailbox (the new mailbox that he helped Andrew install a few months ago? Maybe a year ago because time has no meaning anymore) and can't remember doing it. He tried to blame it on either Zoë or Alexander, but neither one of them are tall enough to reach the top of the mailbox...)

Anyway, I spent the weekend washing an apparent backlog of kid clothes (I should check under Benjamin's bed more often, evidently) and thus our laundry was backed up a bit. So on Saturday when I really just wanted to wear a comfy pair of yoga pants...I...didn't have any clean ones. 

Not to worry, however. Andrew picked up a 2-pack of yoga pants for me when he went to Costco (like, a year ago) and they've just been sitting in my drawer, unopened for the past year or so (because I didn't really think I needed more yoga pants at the time...until suddenly I did). So I opened the package and put on a pair and was sad to find out that I probably should have washed them before wearing because they left black residue all over everything. Like, my fingertips were all black from pulling them on. It was kind of gross. Clearly these were the kind of pants that needed to be washed before wearing.

Andrew decided to throw in a load of darks this morning, but I reminded him of the cursed black yoga pants. 

"I feel nervous about washing them even with things that we consider darks. I'd rather if we just wash them with things that are simply black," I said. 

"Okay," he said, dumping out the bin of darks and rummaging through them. He pulled up a pair of his black athletic pants, which, according to Amazon, are made from a "high-quality nylon and spandex bland fabric" and are thus "high-stretchy, moisture-wicking, cool and breathable." Basically yoga pants for men, I guess.

"Are these synth-y black enough?" he asked.

"Excuse me? Did you just say...synth-y...black?"

"Yeah," he said, staring back at me as confusedly as I was looking at him. "That's your word..."

"My word?!" I asked.

"Yeah. You said that you want to wash your yoga pants with things that are 'synth-y black.' These are synthetic and they're black, so..."

"Simply black," I said. "Simply."

If you're wondering what we've been laughing about all day, it's this.