With the kids finally back to school, the pressing question during the morning rush is “Mom, where are my socks?”
One of my house rules is – if you don’t put it in the laundry basket, it doesn’t get washed. I wash your dirty clothes, I’m not going to look for them too. I bought plenty of socks before school started. So I have to admit, I got a little puzzled over the mysterious disappearance of socks on a regular basis. At first I blamed the washer for eating them. But upon closer inspection, I have discovered where the blame truly lies.
In support of my theory, I present Mom’s Exhibit A – a sockumentary, if you will.
no great surprise here
I suppose it’s thoughtful, really. I don’t have to bend over to pick them up.
I have to admit, I’m curious.
And then, I hit the motherlode:
Younger Boy, you are TOTALLY busted.
Tags: a real mother, the boys
Denise,
I used to get stressed over who had the white with gold toe, vs. white w/ grey vs. short patterned. We’ve simplified the whole sock problem by having a basket of clean socks in the mud room. It started out as a time-saving device in the morning so they wouldn’t have to run down to their rooms and get distracted before remembering or not remembering to get their socks. Now clean, folded ones go straight to the sock basket in the mud room. They seem to know which pairs are theirs, or they don’t seem to care if they don’t know. Barring a catastrophe like someone catching athlete’s foot, the communal sock basket works great. I even pilfer a pair out of there occasionally, if I’m in a hurry to run out the door.
Hilarious! Loved reading your sockumentary, and so totally relate…
October 14, 2010 | minor catastrophes (megault@aol.com)