Underpants Land

I live in Underpants Land. I am not the President or proprietor, I would probably be described as "cleaning crew". The reason I have dubbed our abode as Underpants Land is that you cannot swing a dead cat without hitting a pair of underpants due to the constant dropping of clothing by my 10 yr old niece. I have picked up at least 3 pairs of underpants every day for the last three years. I don't know whether they are clean or not as I use a stick and promptly deposit them into the hamper. My question is....how does one go through that many pairs on a daily basis? More importantly, why is it referred to as a pair when there is only one item? Oh well, I do realize that this is only one small infraction that is added to our daily dysfunction. On any given day you can find my sister, her child or my dog by following the trail they leave. With my sister, it is a trail of sugar, coffee creamer or coffee stains on the counter top. My niece, of course, the endless stream of clothing, and my dear dog who has found it much more comfortable to move his dog food one mouthful at a time (dropping half of it en route) to an area NOT BY HIS BOWL. I thought at first, he was moving it to be in front of the tv or closer to myself, but that theory is a bust since I have found sharp dog food crumbles lodged in my foot in every room of the house. And Yes I have moved his bowl, but again he must eat NOT BY HIS BOWL. Suffice it to say that there are never any missing persons or dogs in Underpants Land.