Why do the laundry every week when you have more than enough to last a month?

"That's something you can't get me enough of... yep, either black, gray, or navy blue," I overhear Brent say to his mother over the phone.

"I know you did not just ask your mother to get you more dress socks for Christmas," I say, as I poke my head around the bedroom door to glare at my husband sitting on the couch.


His impish smile in response told me that's exactly what he asked her to buy for him.


So, to prove my point (because I AM RIGHT... in this case anyway) I yank out the giant drawer we reserve for our socks and pull out all the black, gray, and navy blue socks that are sitting one right on top of another on the right side of the drawer and lay them out on the bed. They stretch from one end to another and there are 32 - that's right, THIRTY TWO - pairs of work socks. And this is BEFORE I've done the laundry for the week.


After hearing my dear husband hang up the phone, I call him into the bedroom and point at the ridiculous amount of socks sitting on the bed while giving him THE LOOK.


To men, clothes should be worn until they can't physically be worn anymore; meaning until they disintegrate in the washing machine. It amazes me that men can ignore the brown, deoderant-crusted pit stains or huge rips in their beloved boxers or T-shirts. This is why my husband has the larger side of the closet. (Not that I mind so much... it means I get the larger side of the shoe rack.


"Still think you need more dress socks?" I ask as he's picking through the pile muttering, "Didn't know I had this one... didn't know I had THIS one... thought I lost THIS pair in high school..."


"Honey, just because you can't SEE all THIRTY TWO pairs of socks piled deep into the drawer doesn't mean they aren't occupying a ridiculous amount of space in there. Now, why don't you call your mom back and tell her 'nevermind.'"


"No."



When pure logic fails, what else is there to say?