Upon his return from the school farm trip, JT presented my with a sack full of laundry. As I sorted through the pile, I was struck again by the condition of his socks.
We go through a lot of socks around here and JT's can nearly always be found in a most deplorable condition. They start off their term of service in our house as a snowy white bundle. But in short order they look as if they've been worn for days by a cola miner digging through a tunnel of mud.
I do my best to bleach them into submission but after awhile I am forced to admit defeat. The socks are still serviceable, of course, but they look dreadful, as if they are the possession of a street urchin with only one pair of socks to his name.