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Last week on Thursday, Henry opened up his sock drawer and hollered out to us that he didn't have any clean socks. The way he said it laid the blame solidly at my front door, because I am the one who does the laundry right? If there are no clean socks, surely it's my fault. Anyway, I thought it was strange he was out because I had done some laundry a few days before, but the laundry situation was in a bit of a state of flux because of the traveling we had done over the weekend, so maybe I had missed some. I've also been getting rid of some of his socks here and there over the last few weeks because he's outgrown them (my baby!) or because they've had holes in them (my little man!) so I figured perhaps I had been more zealous in my weeding out of socks than I realized.

So, being the dutiful mother I am, I did a load of whites, then made my way to Target to procure a fresh pack of socks.

Now it's Monday. On Monday, I do laundry and vacuum. While vacuuming under the TV stand, what did I find but two and half Henry-sized white socks. While putting Chutes and Ladders away in our puzzle/game cabinet, I undid the Holly-proof latch and what did I find? Two pairs of white Henry socks. Then, when I lifted up the couch cushions to vacuum out a few weeks worth of Chex crumbs, guess what I found? One pair of socks under each of the two cushions. That's five and half pairs of dirty socks he's been squirreling away because he's too lazy to go upstairs and put them in the dirty laundry.

I can't wait for that kid to get home from school.