Monday 19 August 2013
It was bad enough in the days PB (Pre-Baby) when I would have at least 20 seconds to ruminate on their whereabouts before stealing a pair of my husband's. Now I am regularly sweaty and sockless in my shoes. This is because I am regularly forced to choose between locating a matching pair of socks and brushing my teeth/putting on my pants/having a poo or some other highly essential daily ablution. The socks always lose.
The worst thing is so many mum and baby activities require you to take off your shoes in order to participate (due, I'm guessing, to softly blanketed flooring and that general not-wanting-people-to-tread-dog-poo-near-babies thing). I'm trying to make new friends here with a vintage Primarni-loveheart-with-hole-in-heel on one foot and that bloody Christmas penguin on the other. THIS IS WHY I HAVE NO MUM FRIENDS.
In desperation I have spent late nights on eBay accumlating a raft of over-the-knee numbers in various colours and stripes, all large and bright enough not to lose. I am now in the process of throwing away ALL my old socks, ALL of them, even those black ones that ALMOST match goddamnit, and replacing them with these ludicrous great danglers. I may now resemble a deliberately quirky wanker or a teenage goth, but HOLY SHIT it'll look like I'm actually trying.