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When I was young, I remember hearing my mother cry out, “Why isn’t anything ever my own?!” My response would be to roll my eyes. But now, I get it. To the point of crying out the same words when looking for a simple match to my own socks.
Indeed, only three days after buying my last bag of socks, ALL WERE GONE. Why isn’t anything ever my OWN!?
So now, it has come down to this:
I gazed upon my new handiwork in sadness and disbelief, until I put two of the socks together:
Which reminded me of these babies that I rocked in a Payless Shoe Store. Much to the delight of my children and the cashier, who laughed almost as hard as I:
My son? “Mom, WOW.” And then he picked me up off of the floor.
