(Author’s Note: Sometimes, in this terrible wonderful journey called parenting, I catch myself doing something so totally ridiculous that I absolutely must share it).
“Here. I’ll show you how to do it,” for the hundredth time, I thought as I took the bath towel from my son and showed him the right way to fold it.
The right way to fold bath towels is the way my mama taught me, by the way.
“Why does it matter how I fold it as long as it is folded?” Ethan asked.
Seemed like a genuine question. I didn’t think he was trying to be smart aleck.
I started to answer. I started to explain that it was the right way to do it because I said it was the right way.
But then I stopped.
And I thought about it.
Does it really matter? Does it really matter how the towels are folded as long as they fit into the linen closet?
Is this a battle worth fighting? A hill worth dying on?
Probably not, to be honest.
If I can get the kids to fold towels, I should just be happy that they are helping, right?
So I kept my mouth shut and let him fold the towels however he folded them…
And then I went behind him later and folded them the way I wanted them folded before he took them upstairs to the linen closet.
Guess I didn’t learn my lesson this time. Maybe I’ll get it right next time.