I'm not a gambling woman, but when the lottery gets that high, I can't help but play. I know it's ridiculous. I know all the stats about having a better chance of being struck by lightning or spontaneously combusting or some such...but I don't care. It's half a billion dollars. I'll play those odds.
But I have to admit that I am not really confident in my luck these days.
For example, I have been trying to do a better job of making sure we get all the socks in the house paired when doing the laundry. And so when I got around to folding this pile below the other night, I crossed all my fingers and toes and said, "Please, please, please. My kingdom for one frikkin' load of laundry with no unmatched socks!"
.JPG)
That's all I wanted, folks. Not a half a billion dollars. Just socks that match.
Instead, this is what I got.
.JPG) |
| Sigh. I guess I'll just add these to the pile. |
I'm hiring someone to do the laundry. And it'll be their job to figure out The Mystery of the Socks.
2 comments:
This happens to me Every Single Time. And yet, I always get my hopes up that this will be the load with matching socks. Every time those hopes are dashed. You would think I'd learn.
But really, where the frick do those socks go?
My solution. Buy all white socks of the same brand. That way you can throw the ones with no match in a drawer and when you wash again and one or two socks come up missing there is a mate in the drawer just waiting for a friend. Cause I've declared a long time ago there is no answer to Angel's question of really, where the frick do those go.
Post a Comment