Somewhere I’m sure there’s a sock gremlin laughing at me

If you have kids, you know all too well that you’re going to have laundry…and I don’t know about you, but I have such an intense dislike for laundry that I put it off until I have three or four loads to wash, dry, fold, and put away. Which, by the way is about every two days in our household. (cue violins now, please)

I usually end up with a basket of leftover socks that need to be matched up and I willingly pay my kids a nickel a pair to do it just to save me the headache. I think I’ve paid out about $142.35 this year alone. I calculated yesterday that if I keep it up for the next 16 years, I’m going to have to take a second mortgage to pay for all the sock-matching going on. This is in addition to the fact that we also have the finest collection of sock puppets in the entire western hemisphere from all the socks unable to be matched. My kids will have no problem buying their first car if they start saving now. Of course, I’ll be walking because, honestly? Between buying new socks to replace the mismatched ones and the paying them to match the ones left — I won’t be able to afford the gas for my own car. But I digress…

I recently noticed that my son has taken to hiding his socks when he takes them off. Not in his shoes (that would be too easy for the sock gremlin to find!), but under the couch cushions, behind the bookshelf, under his pillow, in his train table…you get the picture. Seems where ever I look these days, I am finding socks he has stashed away for future use. (This way, they are at his disposal, you see). Most people would probably tend to think he has some sort of anxiety disorder about lost socks…but me? I just think he knows that somewhere there’s a sock gremlin laughing at me whilst sitting on a comfy, cozy pile of our family’s socks.

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