My Sock Story

I went hunting today. Before anybody throws a tin of paint over me while I cue for the school to open, no, not that kind of hunt. I was on the prowl for socks. Those elusive creatures.  Originating in pairs but somehow they  always seem to find themselves alone.There are a number of theories, urban myths, if you like as to where all the odds socks go. Some say that the missing socks come back as extra tubberware lids. The washing machine eats them. Alien abduction. You know all really logical explanations.

I’m a compassionate person, empathetic even so I feel for the socks in my hotpress that no longer have their partner in life. August 14th I moved into my house and I know on that day that I brought only pairs of socks. Now in November I have many singular socks.  So today I went in search of every sock in my house in an attempt to restore order. It did not go well.

I had a system in place for my boys. I used to buy plain block colours for my Sun and anything with a pattern for my Moon. Then I had a thought what if my sock choices for my boys is influencing who they are going to be when they grow up. My pattern choice or lack thereof would be the foundations of my boys personalities. Sun growing up to be straight laced and responsible and Moon turning out to be wild an carefree. Yes I deduced all that from their socks. So I changed my strategy they now share socks. So it’s now only my bad genes that will feck them up and not my sock choices for them.

I emptied all the washing baskets. Looked behind beds and emptied bags that overnight clothes might have been placed in. I washed all the socks and I paired them all up. It was an incredible satisfying exercise which fills me with utter despair that these are now the things that I derive pleasure from. It’s not easy match up socks but I gave it my all. I’d like to thank those who supported me. You know who you are.

Some of the socks had seen better days so I put them out of their misery and replaced them with brand new ones. I picked up what I thought were five pairs of the same socks. Turns out they are five pairs of socks all with slight variations. Just enough to make me want to pluck out my eyelashes one by one rather than match them up. Will I ever learn? So I guess my sock story will continue.

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