I heard they were raised by a pack of wolves.

I had a lunch date today. And come hell or high water, I was going to be there. By high water, I mean the steady rain that has been coming down all day. And by hell, I mean what I had to go through to get out the door.
I had already been dodging the daggers my husband likes to shoot at me when he knows Im leaving him home alone with the kids. (I suspect he thinks I created these little beings all by myself while he was watching football one Sunday .) And then I also had to dodge the big shiny "Puss n Boots" don't leave me, I love you eyes my one year old gives me when he sees me doing things like putting on make up or brushing my hair. You know, the things that set off a child's "abandonment ahead" alarm. I guess he wasn't getting the reaction he had hoped for with the eyes, so he stepped it up a notch and started wailing and following me all over the house with his hands up in the air trying to get picked up. It worked.
So I decided to help my husband out a bit and help him get the kids dressed and out the door so I could finish getting ready in peace. I carried the baby into the nursery and he was already in there with my 4 year old. I opened the dresser and was digging out an outfit for one of the kids, and my husband reaches down into the pile of dirty laundry and grabs the outfit my 4 year old wore yesterday and says "Yesterdays clothes okay?"
I stopped my search, slowly turned around and faced him. I stared at him for a second and tried to choose which one of the many things I wanted to say to him in that very moment that wouldn't scar the kids for life. I settled on "Are you serious? Did you JUST pick up his dirty clothes from off the floor and ask me if its okay to wear them again today?"
He looks at me like he just asked me if I wanted some coffee and is not sure why I am looking at him like that and goes "So. No?"

I had to think for a moment what would happen to my kids if something were to happen to me and they were left in the care of their father. I had visions of them running around in the same outfit for a whole week, food smeared on their faces, hair matted like those dread lock dogs you see in dog shows on Animal Planet, and looking like they just escaped from beyond Thunderdome.
*shudder*

No, my beautiful clueless hairy caveman husband. Its not okay. ;)