Peeling apart that static-covered clump of socks is tense. First you yank them from the dryer and dump the hot haystack on the bed. Then you start pairing up the easy ones — reconnecting brown argyle husbands with brown argyle wives and red-striped brothers with red-striped sisters. It’s free and easy love all around. But … Continue reading #842 When the socks from the dryer all match up perfectly