She also made TastyKake gift bags for everyone to take home with them, so is it any wonder that this girl is near and dear to my heart?
However, as close as we are, it's pretty clear that she and I march to the beats of two entirely separate drummers.
(FYI, Hers is kind of neat and well put-together, whereas mine is usually missing a shoe and tripping on acid)
The girl can organize a mean closet.
Granted, her "before" picture is pretty rough, but at the end of the day, what separates her and me is that she observed her unsightly closet and felt an unquenchable thirst to fix it.
I, on the other hand, have never been up at all hours of the night worrying about how organized, (or not) my closet is,
But to hit the point home, let's capture this juxtaposition with a little picture, shall we?
"What," you might be asking yourselves, once you get over the shock, horror, and awe of this picture, "is a sock bag?"
Well, I'll tell you.
The sock bag happens to be my piece de resistance of domestic laziness.
You see, the amount of laundry that Brian and I (but mostly Brian) produce negates any type of "Laundry Day" in our house.
In essence, laundry is run at a near continuous cycle, wherein one of us runs out of underpants and we stare each other down until one of us breaks and agrees to do a load of wash.
And so begins the 6-day triathalon that is our laundry.
(on the 7th day, we rest)
Of course, with laundry being washed nearly incessantly, once can imagine how difficult it would be to pair socks.
So?
They go in the bag.
Am I ashamed that I, a 28-year old wife and homeowner, resort to a sock bag for my foot covering needs?
Yes.
And no.
Yes, because I'm apparently failing my duties as homemaker, and no, because it's convenient as hell and let's face it, the back and white Bed Bath and Beyond bag goes perfectly with our bathroom decor.
I'm thinking of marketing this idea - developing a swank bag (sans BB&B logo, natch) and selling it for the low, low price of $19.95 (and if you call in the next 10 minutes, we'll throw in an additional bag for FREE! That's TWO bags for the price of ONE!)
And thusly, I will build my SockBag empire (copyright pending).
Anybody want in on this shit?
8 comments:
Surprisingly enough, I DO match my socks. However after my laundry marathons...there always seems to be 3 or 4 that have no mates. Poor,poor things.
So into MY version of a sock bag they go. HOW they never, ever DO find their mates again is beyond me.
But...they, and I, keepwaiting. The day may just come.
:-)
I buy identical socks.
throw them in the drawer (or more likely leave them in the basket or maybe even the dryer.
Works for me.
Shall I come help you organize your closet?
In all honesty, I don't match my socks either. They get dumped in a drawer. Course, I guess that's an upgrade from a plastic bag. ;P
I think everyone has a bag of shame. Abuse it with pride, my dear... :)
This sounds just like my house.
Except we have a "sock basket".
We also have a sock bag, although it's actually a tote bag that hangs on the bedroom door knob. That's where the unmatched socks go. The bag gets bigger and bigger, until I dump it out and find the matches. Invariably, though, there are always some orphans, so it'a perpetual bag of shame.
I don't feel any better about myself after reading this.
I want my money/virginity back.
A Sock Bag Empire sounds like a great idea. You could TOTALLY market that thing and sell a ton of them. Look at the Shamwow or the Slap Chop.
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