There is something so stinkin' cute about little socks in the laundry. While I am here in Albany, nursing baby Jonathan back to health, I decided to wash a few clothes. Not cuz his Mommy needed help with anything (good grief - the gal already has her Christmas photo cards here, ready for December!!!). Nope, I did some laundry cuz I like to look at his little clothes. Specially the socks. I didn't always ponder the adorable-ness of little socks. I was pretty busy attacking Mount Washmore so I didn't think much about how cute those little socks were. More often than not, I recall being irked that the dryer seemed to eat every other sock so that I had no matching pairs. (Finally figured out a solution to that one - only buy one kind of socks!!). Then all of a sudden, I was sorting the clothes and had trouble telling the difference between my husband's Tshirts and my son's. What in the world happened to the little socks?
I hope I get to wash some more Jonathan clothes tomorrow. And when his socks blend in with his Daddy's, I hope Katie and Mary and Chip and Betsy have more little socks that I get to wash.
I hope I get to wash some more Jonathan clothes tomorrow. And when his socks blend in with his Daddy's, I hope Katie and Mary and Chip and Betsy have more little socks that I get to wash.