M: "LittleE's feet are cold, do you have some socks for him?"
Me: pointedly looks toward the mountain of laundry about to cascade of the sofa behind him
M: ignores me and cuddles our 'freezing' child dressed in overalls, sweatshirt and drool, completely engrossed in Elmo
Me: extracts the first two socks (a grey one and a white one) before the laundry avalanches and throws them to M
M "they don't match"
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