Tide Gets Out What We Get Into

"The tide is high, but I'm holding on. . ." - Blondie

My laundry made me cry today.

I was sorting out my five-year-old's socks (that should be a level in Dante's Inferno - sock sorting!!) and noticed that hers were the last of noticable size distinction.

We all wear low-cut socks, and the boys always swipe the girls' socks (with the pink "Hanes" under the toe - shameless!) when they run out of their own. Now, our socks all look about the same, with only minor variations that preclude the ability to just roll them all up together at will.

No more tiny shirts or tiny pants or tiny washcloths. . . I can't believe this is actually making me SAD. . .but it is.

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