I hate socks. With the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. This hate was not born until I had children. With three kids, all with different sized feet, socking them all is a real drag.
Socks are extremely labour intensive. Not only are they difficult to get on, they seldom stay on, so one finds oneself struggling to re-sock the child(ren) several times a day. Then, there is the washing of the socks. Making sure they get to the clothes hamper is hurtle number one. Hurtle number two: hanging them to dry. Hate it. Matching them is even worse as it seems far fewer pairs make it out of the wash then went into the wash. The result: a mother gone crazy searching through the sock bin only to find 1000 singleton socks.
I'm dreading fall and the return of sock season. In the back of my mind I've already started taking a sock inventory. I checked the sock bin the other day and it is empty. Where the hell did all the socks go? I find this a little unnerving. I know I had at least 20 pairs before the summer started. I then realized our house is currently like an "Eye-Spy" book titled "Socks:" if you study any room, you'll be able to pick out the random sock here, there and everywhere.
I decided I'd let Future Emily worry about the socks. Right now it's still summer. Denial and procrastination are beautiful things.
Sock lodged in window sill
Those two black things, those are socks strewn on the floor.
1 comment:
Totally get the sock thing. I hate putting socks up to dry on the line, it's so bloody tedious. I usually just dangle them on the side of my laundry basket outside b/c I can't be bothered to hang each one individually - it makes me mental.
Kristen
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