WHY CAN’T YOU ALL BE THE SAME, STUPID PALE BABY SOCKS?
Where are your friends?
If this is some sort of sock conspiracy to make me lose my tiny mind and turn to the cooking sherry before nine in the morning, it’s working. Your reprobate other halves have until 9 am tomorrow to show themselves. After that I will glue eyes onto you and turn you into a family of mixed pastel sock puppets. You will be made an example of.
Don’t think I won’t do it. I have glue. I know where to buy eyes. I saw them not half an hour ago at the $2 shop while I was buying miniature wooden clothes pegs and paper doilies and double sided tape. I am, you see, suffering from a mild case of Craft. This morning I am fixated on making a banner a bit like this for May Blossom’s party. It’s probably just a twenty-four hour thing though. Having bought all the bits and pieces to make it I will unpack all the supplies, lose interest and then become obsessed with going to Ikea to buy a nifty box to store it all in.
Sometimes I suspect I need a job.
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