Usually the messages from the underworld that I encounter are benign evidences of the barbarian (un)civilization that shares my home. Other times they seem canny, calculated, and devious.
This morning I'm rushing around trying to find Jesse's shoes so we can get the grocery shopping done so we can deliver Logan's forgotten backpack to him before a key event so we can pick up Haley and her friend on time from school.
And I can't find those shoes anywhere. "Why," I berate myself, "can I not even manage to keep track of this child's shoes?!"
Later in the afternoon I'm collecting laundry from the kids' bedrooms. Look at the tidy laundry bucket from Levi and Jesse's room. Miraculously, it appears to contain 1.) the boys dirty laundry and 2.) nothing that isn't dirty laundry. Things may be looking up, I think.
But look again at those two white socks at the top of the bucket.