While Doug and I were dating he shared a story with me about how he felt about socks and life. The story was that people were much like socks in that some found their mate and stayed together for life while others get separated in the dryer and go through life searching for the other. He was beginning to believe he was a lost sock until I came along.
This sad contemplation has led me to a rigorous sock pairing search every few months. Doug collects his assortment of unmatched socks and I go on a mission.
It is amazing how many socks get separated and no matter how hard you look, you just can't find that perfect one. It is theoretically impossible to lose a sock. Especially in our house where dirty laundry goes down the laundry chute and falls into a basket in the basement. Then magic elves (or so most of my family seem to believe) sort the clothes, wash, dry, fold and bring them back up the stairs. On most days, the clothes reappear in your drawer ready for the trip again.
So tell me, how does a sock, much less a lot of socks, get lost in this process? Last night I found seven pairs of socks. That gave me a lot of satisfaction and seem to bring peace to Doug's troubled heart. Then I looked at all the other socks in the pile and wondered how much satisfaction I could get out of throwing them out and buying him new ones. It seems to me that would be a great experience as well.
So I wonder, how much time do other people, normal ones that have not attached themselves to the sock saga, spend trying to find sock mates?
No comments:
Post a Comment