Something strange is happening here, specifically to The Boy.
I always considered myself a light sleeper, but a nefarious stranger must be entering our home at night.
Jeans that fit last month are too tight and too short.
Single socks are littered along the hallway and scattered in the living room.
Long sleeve shirts? Missing in action.
Jeans, too. Gone. Every morning, The Boy gets dressed and comes into the living room in shorts - even when there is frost on the windshield, like this morning. He swears that there are no long pants in the laundry basket or in the dresser.
He insists that no dirty clothes are in his room.
I've done all the laundry, there are no jeans languishing in the washer or dryer.
Who would take The Boy's jeans? Who is altering the hems and/or stealing laundry and leaving socks behind as evidence of the theft?
The Boy's bedroom is eating clothes.
I'm too afraid to enter, lest I come out in just my birthday suit.
The Boy's eating habits are making his pants too tight.
And the socks?
The cat has some Hansel and Gretel breadcrumb fixation, as she finds single socks to mark her path from litter box to living room.
We apparently need a Clapper to home in on the location of The Boy's clothes, a lock on the refrigerator to ensure that said clothes fit, and lead weights in all the socks to prevent the cat from picking them up in her teeth.
I think it's time for The Boy to do his own laundry - but I fear he'd just go to school in his swim shorts in the middle of a snowstorm.
I'm going into The Boy's room today - if I don't post in the next three days, send help...and a nice bathrobe. I'll be the naked one shivering in the corner.