The Wrath of a pack of wild terriers… SOCKS

My dirty little secret… I hate laundry. I depise dirty laundry and also clean laundry. We have put people on the moon but we still can’t figure out how to get clothes and more importantly socks folded on their own.

People come to my home and say wow, you are a 25 year old Martha Stewart only nicer and not as cold but upstairs in our spare bedroom,soon to be a nursery, lurks our secret. I refuse to match up socks. We keep them in a large plastic KOHLS bag.They pile up and when we can’t find socks that match we either go without or we buy new ones. It is quite the battle.

Yesterday my husband came home to all three dogs running wildly around the house. ( We aren’t sure how Sals got out of his crate yet) He immediately ran to our down couches which were slept on but safe. Jesse then noticed the gate to upstairs was down. He tore upstairs terrified that the dogs had bitten through his Cole Haans or eaten the wires out of my bras.( Which note, the dogs have done before)

Before I continue this tale, note, Airedales have this bizarre obsession with socks. When I say obsession I mean addiction. They just love the look and feel of a nice trouser sock.

In any case, the bag of socks was tipped over with hundreds of mismatched socks laying all about the room. It was if Dutchess let Sals out of his crate and said, ‘ Lets go play with some socks man,’ and off they went. They even brought socks downstairs.Thankfully there was no further damage done and no socks were hurt during the 5 hour span of freedom.

All socks have been washed and place back in their plastic KOHLS bag respectivley.


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