One of my household duties is bringing in the newspapers. This morning, I wandered down the stairs in my sock covered feet and looked out the front door.  It appeared to have rained during the night, so I slipped off my socks and headed outside in my bare feet to get the newspapers.  Heading back in, I walked into the dining room and set the newspapers on the table.

Later in the morning, my feet began to get chilly and I began searching for my socks. Not by the front door, where I remember removing them.  Not on the dining room table, where I set the newspapers.  There they were!  Sitting by the back door.  Apparently, I had carried them to the opposite end of the house and dropped them for future use.  I had become a bigger, older version of my absent minded sock dropping son.  Next up, the socks are scheduled to appear in the refrigerator, when I pick up the milk for my cereal.

My socks resting peacefully by the backdoor. The opposite end of the house from where I last remember depositing them.