They’re trying to drive me insane.
No, not my pack.
Well, them, too, but I’m talking about those knit, Ninja-skilled, foot festoon-ers.
Is there anything more futile and infuriating than trying to keep a supply of clean, paired up socks?
Oh. My. Gosh.
Why is that absolutely impossible to do?
Socks seem to disappear at our home right before our eyes.