When you have children in your life, you come to expect the unexpected. Take this morning, for instance.

My husband is the first one to get up every morning. He stumbles around in the dark searching for his clothes and whatever else he needs to take to the office (god forbid he turn on a light…my less-than-cheerful demeanor in the morning taught him that lesson ages ago). Now, still groggy with sleep and operating in the dark, it’s no wonder he was puzzled when he pulled out a pair of boxers from his dresser and observed their texture to be much crunchier than normal, especially since he went whole hog the last time he did the laundry and actually used an entire fabric softener sheet, rather than the partial sheet his frugal nature urges him to use instead.

He carried the crunchy shorts into the bathroom to examine them in the light. What to his wondering eyes should he discover but a half-eaten piece of toast, still sticky with honey, glued to his undies.

He braved my potential wrath and woke me up to share his discovery. We both burst into laughter. Only one person could be responsible: our darling little two-year old princess, Claire. (It couldn’t have been Sam. He inhales his food and rarely has left-overs. Claire, on the other hand, rarely finishes any of her meals.)

I guess we’ll have to explain to her that daddy’s underwear drawer is not a good place to squirrel away snacks for later on.