What little boys are made of

I was being SO productive today. Gardening, shopping, selling SCHTUFF via virtual garage-sale, cleaning house (regular and the spring-type), directing chores, feeding animals and humans (of course), bathing children, de-ticking the dog(seriously) . . . AND during it all I managed to get all the way through EIGHT loads of laundry. Granted, you have to have a lot of laundry stored up to manage that task, and I know that's nothing to toot my horn about. I am what I am. It is what it is. (Did I mention the laundry is nowhere near being done?)I've been busy collecting the dirties for days now (not telling how many). On top of that I decided it was finally safe to stow away the winter gear - after it's washed, that is.

ANYWAY, just as I finished pulling the tick out of Izzy's belly -and simultaneously patting myself on the back - I discovered THIS lurking under the clothes in the washing machine.



Yeah. So, ever wonder what would happen if you didn't check your children's (or husband's) pockets before starting a load of laundry? Ponder the question no more. You will have a little window into their world if nothing else. I'm feeling a little like I dodged bullet seeing the green crayon that could have very well been melted into the entire load had it made its' way through the dryer too.

Can you identify everything? I get the peanuts - know where those came from even. The dried (well, some-what soggy now) pinto beans though? Who raided the pantry and thought those looked tasty? I would have liked to have been there to see the look on the culprit's face when he bit into one. Yummmy.