Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati
(When all else fails, play dead.)
-----------------------------------------------------
(When all else fails, play dead.)
-----------------------------------------------------
Z's comment on the previous post about dryer lint made me laugh.
I have some habits (sometimes I'm almost OCD), one of which concerns socks.
When I drop a pair into the laundry basket, I either tie them into a loose knot or tuck one into the other. So they live in the basket in pairs. When I sort them for washing, I untie them and put them directly, as pairs, into a net lingerie bag with a zipper closure, with a pin holding the zipper closed. They go through the washer and dryer in the bag.
When I take clothes out of the dryer, I take out the stuff that goes on hangers first, then the stuff to be folded, and last the lingerie bag full of socks.
I unpin the pin, unzip the bag, and dump the contents onto a table for pairing and tucking or tying together.
There's almost always ONE sock missing.
How? At what point could it have gone missing? Jasper's a mighty hunter, but even he's not Houdini.
Two missing can be explained - I probably mismatched/swapped members of two pairs sometime in the past. ONE cannot. Right now I have five orphan trouser socks on the shelf, none of which match any of the others.
I don't understand.
-------------------------------
Daughter has registered me for a "Grandparents' Education" class at the hospital this evening. At the time she signed me up, she thought it had to do with delivery stuff, tour of the maternity area, etc., which I would have liked, but since then she has discovered it has to do with stuff like "we don't put babies to sleep on their bellies any more", so she said I didn't have to go to be patronized if I didn't want to.
I think I'll go anyway. Maybe if I get annoyed I'll skewer them with some questions.
Off to the shower. I'll count my feet when I get out.
.
