Willa came to me nearly in tears this morning. "Mom," she whispered, "we need to get a new washing machine." I gasped, thinking about what could have happened in the basement and the dollars it would cost. And then I asked her why.
"Because," she sniffled and then started to sob, "it's shrinking all of my socks."
"Oh, sweetie... has it shrunk any of your shirts? Your dresses? Your pants?"
-sniff, sniff, sniff- "nooo"
"Do you think that maybe your feet are growing?"
"Do you think you can wear your flip flops for now and we'll go through your sock drawer this week?"
"Okay." And she skipped off.