How does she do it?

It's Halloween night.  I could download some pics of my kids in their adorable costumes and tell you all about how much fun we had trick-or-treating in my childhood neighborhood with my parents (because Dave is gone on his third week-long trip in five weeks).
But if I did that, I would have to go dig through the van to find the camera in the bottom of some bag, under coats and hats that somehow didn't make it back into the house after our evening out.
So instead I'll introduce you to my (so far mostly ineffective) method for matching socks -because I have a random brain and in my world topics of conversation, or blog posts for that matter, don't need to be related to anything, and therefore a blog post about socks on Halloween seems perfectly suitable:

So, last night I watched a portion of an episode of that reality tv show about the couple who has 19 kids.  I kept wondering: how does she do it?  You know, like how does she match socks?  'Cuz my method is to match them as they come out of the dryer, and if I can't immediately find a sock's partner, then I toss the solo sock into this green bin.  And when a particular person in our family is totally out of socks, then I dump this bin and look for matches.  A couple weeks ago, both boys were completely out of clean/matched socks.  So, I planned to dump the bin at nighttime and match socks, but then my sister-in-law stopped by for lunch and gave me a whole bag of socks that her son had recently outgrown.  Ha!  I beat myself at my own game!  And Ruby and Sadie don't like wearing socks, and have been lately getting away with not wearing socks because we are usually in enough of a hurry when I'm corralling everyone to come to the door to put on shoes and coats to go somewhere, so I usually say "Where are your socks?  Oh fine, you can go without any this time..."  (because I also know that their sock basket in their bedroom closet is getting dangerously low on matched socks, and if we use them up willy-nilly, then that just means I will be forced to go to the green bin, and dump and match.  Blech.
Maybe my avoidance is my mom's fault.  Most things in life come back to "blaming the mom", right?  Just kidding mom.  The fact that you used to bribe my best friend and I to match socks for you for a penny-a-pair when we were seven years old likely has nothing to do with this green bin that is now overflowing.
However...that gives me an idea for Sadie Lou's "home school" time with momma tomorrow while the boys nap...ah, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree =-)