The Blob

I don't know how it gets there. A sure doesn't know, neither does S. E claims to not know, but I have my suspicions.

I do the laundry in my house. E and S help (A, sadly, does not have the motor skillz yet. But she is good at closing the dryer door.) but it's me doing the heavy work.

But, inevitably, a few days after the laundry is complete, it will appear again.

The Blob.

:::cue horror music:::

On top of the dryer.

:::more horror music:::

A pile of black dress socks. Male dress socks. Of indeterminate number.

:::horror music comes to a swell:::

Let's do a bit of detective work, shall we? A and S only wear white socks. Well, when S plays ball he wears red socks but that's because that's the name of his team, duh. I also only wear white socks. And lest you think I wear white socks with dress shoes, I will add that I don't wear socks with my heels. Or flats.

Which only leaves one culprit.

Let's watch the interrogation, shall we?

:::dramatization:::

D: Vile man, why are thou socks on mine dryer?
E: Wha?
D: You fool! From whence comest these socks of thine? Art they clean or art they dirty? Show yourself!
E: Um, I don't know?
D: Nave! Thou art a scourge upon the earth! Depart from mine sight you foul beast!

And scene.

So back into the dirty clothes hamper they go to be washed and dried and placed in a pile to be put away. Until next time...