So I usually throw all the socks in a big L.L. Bean Boat-and-Tote, and when I get to the point of desperation, I
As you know, CAM goes to private school, and that means knee socks. Which means that phenomenon of almost-matches.
I'm over it. Between her knee socks and my trouser socks, it has been a sock nightmare, especially in the dark early-morning hours up here in Maine where we get dressed and head to school in the dark.
But then, I determined a solution.
I took every single pair of socks we own that might be confusing (the ones with a pink or blue HANES stripe on the bottom, or with obvious-to-match ruffles not included), and flattened them out and painted patterns on the feet.
I started with a trip to our local craft store and picked up two of these.
I folded all the socks over, and in the middles by the arch, I painted.
|These are all my trouser socks. I tried to make the designs less obtrusive, just in case I end up in my stocking feet at work one day. God help us all if that happens, though!|
We have polka dots and squigglies and hearts and stars and stripes and zig-zags ... some socks are more like slippers with lots of grippies on the bottom, and others just have little designs for the sake of finding a match more easily. Either way, now all I need to do to match socks is check that the patterns are the same color and design.
I can do it in poor lighting while I watch tv. I can ask WHM to do it as a sorting/matching project. It's mindless for me, but a fun game for the kids.
And now, we have sock-match assurance.
Who's brilliant*? This kid, that's who!
*Brilliant, anal, it's all the same