Mingo killed the shit out of a toy mouse this morning. Seriously, that jingle bell will jingle no more. His victory march was most extraordinarily prideful.
I discovered why I always need to buy socks. When I made the bed this morning, tucked into the blanket was every pair of socks I’ve worn to bed since the last time I made the bed. Verily, a cascade of socks.
Two options….. buy more socks, or make the bed more often……
I know, I’m terrible. It was like six pairs.
For what it’s worth, um, I’m every bit as bad.
HATE HATE HATE making the bed, and yeah, I wear socks to bed too. Usually mismatched (the same style, different colors)…hubby teases me about the mismatched thing. I cannot get to sleep easily if my feet are cold.
My socks disappear for two reasons: (1) 13-year-old daughter “borrows” them and then dumps them on the floor with the rest of her dirty clothes, where they languish for months, or (2) Prissy eats them and then has to go through the painful process of eliminating them. I think I’d rather lose them in an unmade bed. 🙂