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sockmageddon
Sep. 15th, 2015 02:32 pmHad the world's most stereotypical suburban mom temper tantrum and committed mass culling upon The Socks. Somehow my children had between them three different sets of the same socks, in two or possibly three different sizes, meaning that I never knew whose goddamn socks they were when folding the laundry, argh, socks.
In the course of buying them each a new set of socks, I made the amazing discovery that apparently I can't tell their socks apart because in sock-sizing terms, they have the *same size feet* - Q is wearing a 9 shoe and J is wearing a 13 shoe and there seems to be a sock size that goes from 9 to 2 1/2. Which, eureka, stop the fucking presses, no wonder I'm so confused! So I guess I didn't need to buy new socks at all, I could have just assigned out the existing socks according to some memorable rule, but, whatever, I have such hatred at this point towards those confounding little suckers that it's honestly a pleasure to heap them up for the rag bag.
Such is the exciting life of the housewife.
In the course of buying them each a new set of socks, I made the amazing discovery that apparently I can't tell their socks apart because in sock-sizing terms, they have the *same size feet* - Q is wearing a 9 shoe and J is wearing a 13 shoe and there seems to be a sock size that goes from 9 to 2 1/2. Which, eureka, stop the fucking presses, no wonder I'm so confused! So I guess I didn't need to buy new socks at all, I could have just assigned out the existing socks according to some memorable rule, but, whatever, I have such hatred at this point towards those confounding little suckers that it's honestly a pleasure to heap them up for the rag bag.
Such is the exciting life of the housewife.
