I never understood fuzzy socks. Like, why? Go barefoot or throw on some slippers.

Now that I'm knocking at 40's door, fuzzy socks are all I understand.

This pack of fuzzy socks was my impulse buy at the store. Fuzzy socks are the warm hug my chipping nail polish-covered toes need.

Fuzzy socks satisfy in a way mere slippers can't.

Fuzzy socks are my trip to the spa and my replacement for nights of clubbing from yesteryore.

Fuzzy socks are the layer between my tired feet and the hard floor on my way downstairs to get Tums after a taco dinner.

Fuzzy socks.
Fuzzy socks.
Oh, fuzzy socks.


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