War Secrets Revealed

Diego had Cocoa Pebbles and Mike D had breakfast in bed, without a diaper. Today was the first day of potty training. (it only lasted 3 hours with good reason, the Yo Gabba Gabba under-roos were a 3 pack, all 3 are now washing)
We watched Alice in Wonderland (anything ala Tim is fabulous) and had a brief intermission thanks to Mike D, after 3 puddles, and 3 under-roos, we went to the diapers. He knows that all morning I have chased him around (most of the time he was running and flopping in his glory) he came out of his bed room with what looked like a Cocoa Puff. (the fact that we don't eat Cocoa Puffs should have been a clue, but that's what it looked like) He pitched it at me, landing it on my pajama pants. After noticing it was bigger than a Cocoa Puff and not as well rounded, I jumped up in horror, staring at my poo flinging wild monkey boy. Picked up the poo puff and threw it in the garbage, found him in the corner digging out another poo puff and handing it over to me, he was so proud. All morning I have been saying go potty, not get potty and throw it at mom. Mileg (the husb) right next to me, why not target him.
Back to the tub, the fourth time today, my water bill will be crazy between water time and bath time.
We finish the movie and call my dad to see if he is home, hoping to give him his father's day gift since Mileg works tomorrow. My husband has him on speaker and my dad tells us they aren't home, they are on the way to my uncle's new house. He asks for me, and the phone, still on speaker is handed over.
Why Mileg didn't have those damned head phones on is beyond me. My father laughs and says "Does Mig know about the socks, doesn't he smell them before putting them on?" Who smells their own socks before putting them on really, this was absolute brilliance. (see laundry wars blog) My husband's eyes grow within his head about double the normal size. (Oh shit moment, where are the handlebars to hold on to) and his head tilts to the side, the beginning of madness in his eyes. I stutter and laugh (well, what the hell else am I supposed to do, WHO TOLD DAMMIT???)
"Um, and how did you know this?" Obviously my blog has hit the parentals and now nothing is sacred, that house is like a chicken coop, once the hens start clucking away there is no one safe from the damage.
"Mara read it to me." He is laughing, and my laptop now confiscated. Hearing the silence and the tone in my question, he said "He's there isn't he?"
"Yes dad, he is right here. No he didn't know, but now he does." We hang up and I am giggling uncontrollably (Kristi style), I can't help it, I know that with the cat out of the bag, I need to just let him read the damn thing, I also know that I have no choice.
"You have 30 seconds to pull it up." Still laughing, but because he has no clue where it is, what my dad meant, or how to find anything on my blog.
I pull up the blog, there is little, or no time to delete, while I searched he had one hand on the laptop, he wasn't letting go.
He read the blog, smiled, looked at me and stopped smiling, read some more looked to me again, not amused at all by the excellent blogging story. "I have gotten lots of buzz on that one, everyone brings it up at one point or another."
He looks away and retorts on it, threatening my Ann Taylor and black and white polka dot dress (note to self: hide them when you can) I knew at one point this would come back and bite me in the ass, but it will not stop me from the war that has begun in this house months ago. And I will not wash twice and lightly starch (has he gone batty??? I can't iron, he knows this, I have burnt a number of his clothing articles before, he must be joking) I say let the smelliness continue. Oh and if you have any ideas on how to take this little WWL (World War Laundry) to the next level, go ahead and post, I would love to take it up a notch. (bonfires are out of the question, as we have attempted to burn things before, like papers, and have done nothing more than send charred pieces of mail with security information miles and miles into the Tampa Bay area, let's just say that got out of hand, never use lighter fluid and a trashcan full of paper to use in order to discard it because you burnt out the shredder from putting way to much paper through, think people think)
***Let me just add to this, after laughing about the revelation of my tactics, he looks over and asks me, "Well have you been washing my underwear at least?"
"Yes honey, I have my limits." He says back, "No, por si las mosquas?" In english "In case of the flies." Poor thing, although the image of flies following him around is ridiculously amusing. Like that little charcter on Charlie Brown, pig pen or something, ay to dream and laugh.