I really, really hate socks. Prior to having children, I had no ill feelings towards socks. But, having children really changed that. Socks are everywhere in my house, and I mean everywhere. If I look somewhere and I don't see a sock, it's just because I haven't looked hard enough.
My kids don't seem to like socks because they are always taking them off. It doesn't matter where they are either. It could be in the bathroom, the playroom, in the middle of building a fort with couch cushions. Everywhere and anywhere I find socks as a result, and right now the baby can't really take off her own socks but she is acquiring new skills quickly. As a result, I find socks in the couch, under the TV, bed or fridge, in the toybox, outside in the yard, and just about anywhere else a small piece of fabric can comfortably nestle. The worst is when they've been there for what is obviously many, many months and they are covered in a large colony of dust bunnies and a dead spider or two. Gross. Just plain gross. Obviously I need to vaccum more, but that's another story.
I try and try to get the kids to at least put their socks in the laundry room when they take them off, but like most children they just ignore their Mother's boring request. They were doing the same thing with shoes, so I bought a boot tray and they are slowly being trained to deposit all shoes there. It's kind of working. Sometimes socks end up there if I'm lucky. I'm usually not lucky, which is why I don't buy lottery tickets.
I find myself picking up socks, washing socks, folding socks and trying to match up mate-less socks way too often. I remember one day I was trying to get all of my son's old socks together to donate and my daughter's socks together to store for the baby, and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. It seemed there were millions of socks - all different sizes and slightly different styles and different colors and single socks kept lining up waiting for their mates. But it seemed the mates were no where to be found, and there's no way it was the washing machine because I never lose my socks. So, despite my best efforts and intentions of passing them on to someone who could use them, I grabbed them all and threw them in the garbage. A huge sigh of relief came over me and I was gloriously happy. I didn't care if I had to go out and buy all new socks. At least those socks would come in pairs.
I'm doing my best to not throw any socks away right now because they all fit someone and I decided to stay home this year so there's not alot of extra money for frivolous sock buying. But, it's driving me positively crazy. Maybe the next time everyone puts their shoes and socks in the boot tray I'll press my luck and buy a lottery ticket. Maybe, just maybe I'll win some sock money.
My kids don't seem to like socks because they are always taking them off. It doesn't matter where they are either. It could be in the bathroom, the playroom, in the middle of building a fort with couch cushions. Everywhere and anywhere I find socks as a result, and right now the baby can't really take off her own socks but she is acquiring new skills quickly. As a result, I find socks in the couch, under the TV, bed or fridge, in the toybox, outside in the yard, and just about anywhere else a small piece of fabric can comfortably nestle. The worst is when they've been there for what is obviously many, many months and they are covered in a large colony of dust bunnies and a dead spider or two. Gross. Just plain gross. Obviously I need to vaccum more, but that's another story.
I try and try to get the kids to at least put their socks in the laundry room when they take them off, but like most children they just ignore their Mother's boring request. They were doing the same thing with shoes, so I bought a boot tray and they are slowly being trained to deposit all shoes there. It's kind of working. Sometimes socks end up there if I'm lucky. I'm usually not lucky, which is why I don't buy lottery tickets.
I find myself picking up socks, washing socks, folding socks and trying to match up mate-less socks way too often. I remember one day I was trying to get all of my son's old socks together to donate and my daughter's socks together to store for the baby, and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. It seemed there were millions of socks - all different sizes and slightly different styles and different colors and single socks kept lining up waiting for their mates. But it seemed the mates were no where to be found, and there's no way it was the washing machine because I never lose my socks. So, despite my best efforts and intentions of passing them on to someone who could use them, I grabbed them all and threw them in the garbage. A huge sigh of relief came over me and I was gloriously happy. I didn't care if I had to go out and buy all new socks. At least those socks would come in pairs.
I'm doing my best to not throw any socks away right now because they all fit someone and I decided to stay home this year so there's not alot of extra money for frivolous sock buying. But, it's driving me positively crazy. Maybe the next time everyone puts their shoes and socks in the boot tray I'll press my luck and buy a lottery ticket. Maybe, just maybe I'll win some sock money.
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