A Tale of Two Socks

It was the best of socks. It was the worst of socks.

I have this rebel sock…this is a real thing. Every pair of socks I own is unique. That makes for easier sorting and folding: keeps them from becoming hangers. (I’ve long held that socks are the larval forms of hangers, but that they only mature if they are in the dryer alone.) I have this one sock that I believe to be claustrophobic; it hates being in a drawer. The other day, when I was doing laundry, I came up with a lone sock!

What? This doesn’t happen to me. I searched the washer, the dryer, and the general environs; it wasn’t there. I searched the clothes hamper to see if it had fallen into another compartment; it wasn’t there. I finally espied it on the skirting board just outside of my closet, hiding behind a pair of shoes. OK, no harm, no foul; and back into the hamper it went (joined by its mate – so they were together).

The next time I did the laundry I made sure that they were together in the laundry basket. I loaded the washer and ensured that they were both there. When I transferred the clothes from washer to dryer; the sock was missing. It was hiding in the washer, stuck to the top of the drum. Fast forward to folding. Again, it’s missing. I found it in the leg of a pair of lounging pants. Perhaps it was playing hide and seek.

I had a little talk with it and assured it that it was safe in the drawer with its mate, and for that matter, all of its other sock friends. (I assume they’re all friends, they’re a tight-knit group.) Thus far, it’s still there, but I reassure it every time I open the drawer. Of course, I cannot be 100% certain that the rogue is the same sock in the pair. Perhaps they are both fractious children and like to play games just to get a rise out of me.

~Giles