The Douchiest Thing

I have done.  Today.

Background.  Lacey and I wear a lot of American Apparel.  I’d like to wish away the controversy surrounding the company’s founder, but it is there and I give up.  We try to buy vegan stuff made in the USA and not look any dorkier than necessary.  That narrows our choices pretty severely and Lacey and I are leaving American Apparel on our list.

A lot of their clothes are unisex, so we sometimes end up buying the same items.  For instance, we have identical blue corduroys.  Luckily we wear different sizes and can sort them easily on wash day.  All that remains is to make sure we don’t leave the house wearing the same pants.  Even that is sometimes too much and we rock identical britches.  Lacey’s look better though (I bought mine a size too big for comfy biking).

All well and good, but could socks be the last straw?   I bought a five pack of black cotton knee highs.  Unisex and one size fits all.  I wasn’t aware that Lacey had bought the same socks months earlier.  I had been washing hers but didn’t know they were from American Apparel so I didn’t think twice as I bought mine.  Misstep discovered, I still wasn’t concerned.  We are good roommates!  We weren’t borrowing each others socks without asking.  Who cares, anyway?  We shouldn’t.  Maybe we don’t, but maybe we do.

Laundry day was becoming a problem.  I thought we could easily differentiate the old from the new and get them in the right drawer.  Not so simple.  I’d wonder to myself (and sometimes to Lacey) “did I wear five pair?”  Almost never the case since I also wear white tubers and recycle more than I should.  So how many should I take?  Hard to say.  I couldn’t audit my drawer to make sure I had enough because I couldn’t remember whether I order a five pack or seven.   I checked my order.  Five pair.  Still, with all the socks in a single pile, I’d wonder not only how many I should claim but whether I got my five pairs.  Sick!

Turns out Lacey was thinking the same thing.  Our relationship is strong, but no reason to test it.  I joked to Lacey that I was going to sew my initials into my five pairs.  She matched my absurdity and said she would too.  I said no need–mark one person’s socks and the unmarked ones are identified just as surely.  As we laughed, I found myself digging through our tin of sewing supplies.  Ten red exes should do the trick.  Not even fifteen minutes (to total douche-dom).  So it is.

Wow.  What’s up with that?  Gotta get that taste out of my mouth.  You?  Fresh squirrel video?

Enough!  Bye!

4 responses to “The Douchiest Thing

  1. this is truly the best blog ever

  2. I fold all the laundry in our house and get told off for mixing up my 8 year old daughter’s and my wife’s socks. I might have to instigate this method because it’s only going to get worse as Lily gets older. Maybe I can hire your services if you visit Omaha?

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