I hate folding clothes. More specifically, I HATE matching socks. There are always missing socks, and I have a theory about that. This is my theory: all of the lint collected in the dryer and my husband's bellybutton is made up of those missing socks. Yep. It makes perfect sense. Really. It does.
And I have a plan.
I am getting rid of all the socks that are currently unmatched in my sock basket (which is ALL OF THEM) and I am buying new socks. But all of the new socks will be exactly the same so that I can just throw them in the basket unmatched and then reach into the basket at 7am (which I consider the butt crack of dawn) with my eyes still shut and still only pull out matching socks. Its brilliant really. I'll let you know how it goes.
*Even though I hate folding clothes, I am SO grateful to actually have clothes to fold. I am blessed.