over the last six months, my strangest mommy fear has increased with every casual stroll through the dining room.

each glance at the “sorting table,” with all of its bizarre collections and carefully-placed containers, sends me into a dim vision of the  future, wherein i accidentally tune in to one of those hoarding television shows only to behold my poor adult son, meandering through a narrow path in his  junk-filled house.

easter basket appropriated for sock storage

i recently confessed to my college roommate that i am raising a future hoarder, and thankfully, she sent me this illuminating article  that states that sorting is a normal sign of cognitive advancement in toddlers. upon further investigation, i stumbled upon this article  that actually instructs parents of preschoolers to encourage sorting behavior in their children. apparently, the key is that the monkey sorts with great joy and gusto, not out of a misplaced sense of obligation.

this is all excellent news! but now what am i to do when i want to have company over for dinner?