At some point in every day, there’s a wash load to tackle and dirty clothes to sort. There will be a pair of jaw-droppingly filthy trousers or shorts belonging to the collector kid, the boy kid, the Magpie. There’ll be no getting around the need to fully investigate this kid’s every pocket. I know there is no getting around blindly poking my fingers into the deepest pocket crevices, because once or twice I squeezed my eyes shut and la-la-la-la-ed with my hands over my ears and slammed the washing machine door shut and pressed ON.
Nothing like freshly laundered bug carcass, spread over an entire wash load.
Last week I thought I’d do a study. See what shiny and not so shiny objects caught my Magpie Kid’s eye...
Irrefutable proof lunchboxes are a shared affair at school. No bug carcass.
Irrefutable proof the child drinks beer at school. No bug carcass.
Irrefutable proof the child is solely responsible for introducing gall wasp to our lemon tree. No bug carcass (probably a thousand, living, unhatched, waspy ones inside that nice piece of holey wood).
Irrefutable proof of school gardening day. Kid plotting own stealth kitchen garden. No bug carcass.
Irrefutable proof of Excursion With Mum into City to See Jess’ Grand Exhibition and all her red SOLD! dots. No bug carcass.
Irrefutable proof my kid is the thief stealing all the copper wire and shutting down entire railways and phone lines. Makes up for this by finding a button for the jar. No bug carcass.
Irrefutable proof that nonchalent rummaging through the Magpie’s pockets is a Very Bad Idea. One arachnid carcass.
(I checked. He intends to keep EVERYTHING).