So I’m sat there - minding my own business, checking my email, when this loud howl comes from downstairs, “Oh my god!” It says. Repeatedly. I run downstairs expecting to find the aftermath of a murder. Or at least a serious assault. Instead there’s my wife, staring at the shelves of our walk in ‘robe. “What’s up?” I cry, breathless from sprinting down the stairs to the aid of my obviously distressed wife. “Would. You. Look. At. The. State …. of these t-shirts.” “What?” I say. “What have you done? It looks like a wild animal ran amok in here.”

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