We have large bin in the basement full to the brim of too small, too dirty andtoo little socks.
And every week I do the impossible: Try to the match them up.
I know a few get lost through no fault of ours and I can, and will – blame the dog for some of the single sock situation I find myself in. Not all – but definitely some.
The wee one seems to go through socks at such a clip and there’s a trinity of reasons for this:
- Growth.
- Natural Causes. aka: they went through the dog.
- Actual wear and tear.
But if there’s a single sock at the end of the week you must hang on to it as if it’s the last piece of pie in the pan, because you never know: the missing sock might come back next week.
Spoiler Alert: The socks never never come back.
Every week I am going through the same pile week after week trying in vain to get just one match. If you thought dating was hard…just wait until you’re married with different colors and sizes of socks to match.
I’m writing about socks because god knows what else I could write about, but also that BW bought some new socks for the child, and I found them on the kitchen table.
First, socks should not be on a kitchen table, and second I had to rescue them and match them in pairs and get this: put them away. NOW – before they get lost.
Of course, before I put the new ones in the drawer I routed through the drawer for some old stragglers that might be stuffed in corners and I found a few that might have fit a few years ago but they no longer fit anybody here anymore.
So, I pitched them. Our mornings are stressful enough with all the don’t miss the bus stress, we do not need to add to it by thinking there’s got to be another sock in the drawer that matches the one pink polka dot one with unicorns that I have in my hand.
There isn’t.
BW hates that I pitch socks.
I give them a few weeks to show up and if they haven’t I figure they must have found a nicer home so I may as well pitch them. It’s not like they are going to come back. If by the time laundry load number 20 comes around and I haven’t seen the match show up I am going to claim the sock as MIA and give the other the burial it deserves.
It’s the right thing to do.
This is why I love new sock day. All the socks are clean, and organized and put away ready to start the day. And then two weeks later one will be in the mismatched sock tub and we will be asking ourselves again:
HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?
Folks, I think I may have figured it out. I’m blaming the leprechauns:
It’s the only thing I can think of that makes any sense.
