The Phenomenon of Lost Socks
It’s happened again. My husband bellows through the house, “Di, where are all my socks?” That familiar churning returns to my stomach. Somehow we manage to lose a sock or two with every load of laundry. Why is that?
I start out with a full load, carefully pairing the socks to make sure we’re starting with equal amounts. Once they’re washed, I pluck them from the washer and throw them into the dryer, double-checking that there is nothing left in the washer. Then when I empty the dryer, and I do mean empty, as in, not a single speck left inside, and bring the loaded clothes basket into the living room to fold the clothes, I’m minus two socks—not matching socks, mind you. Which means I now have two stray socks without mates.
If this were happening with the toilet, I’d blame it on the Tidy Bowl man, but what’s up with this washer and dryer? I’m not exactly Jessica Fletcher of Murder, She Wrote fame, but you’d think I could solve this mystery after thirty years of laundry.
Why, just the other day I found a stray sock stuffed between our sofa cushions. Then our dog strutted past me with a second tail hanging off her backside. It was navy blue and nylon. I won’t even go into the public appearances with socks dangling from panty hose and suit coats. I’m trying to put all that behind me, so to speak. Still, the saga continues.
Yesterday I found a stray sock that had belonged to our daughter when she was, well, two. It was stuck in an old
My dilemma continues, but I’ve learned to adjust. Life’s just too short to worry about it. Still, when you see me at conference, if you happen to see a sock dangling from my person, will you please tell me?
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Colleen Coble writes romantic suspense with a strong atmospheric element. A lovable animal of some kind--usually a dog--always populates her novels. She can be bribed with DeBrand mocha truffles.
Denise Hunter writes women's fiction and love stories with a strong emotional element. Her husband says he provides her with all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too.
Diann Hunt writes romantic comedy and humorous women's fiction. She has been happily married forever, loves her family, chocolate, her friends, chocolate, her dog, and well, chocolate.
Cheryl Hodde writes romantic medical suspense under the pen name of Hannah Alexander, using all the input she can get from her husband, Mel, for the medical expertise. For fun she hikes and reads. Out of guilt, she rescues discarded cats. She and Mel are presently taking orders from four pampered strays.
10 Comments:
Now I heard the theory of the washing machine eating baby socks when the boys were little..
But now they wear size 13 shoes! My goodness after all these years that machine has been well fed!!
I still think someone comes in moves my keys, steals 1 sock, takes the lids off the toothpaste, puts extra calories in my "diet food", and hides my remote.......
I laughed out loud reading this, and I'm helping out at church answering phones while half the staff is at a conference. The other half came to see what I was laughing at. Of course, I had to let them read your post.
That set off a thirty minute storyfest of sock loss. When our congregation has no bulletin this Sunday, we'll post an announcement that it was another case of Di's sox mystery. ;)
It must be a universal problem, huh, Denise? Washing Machines of the world UNITE! Corina, I would say with size 13 shoes, your washer is industrial size! :-)
Ane your post cracked me up! My apologies to your congregation, but I sure would have loved to be in on that storyfest of sock loss! LOL!
Diann
LOL! Esp the one hanging off the dog's butt.
Actually, socks in my house reproduce in the dirty laundry pile. I mean, I know I didn't buy that many pairs, so where did they all come from? And why do I need to wash them practically every other day? Like I don't have enough laundry to do!
Camy
i just end up wearing mismatching socks all the time because i can NEVER find a pair. even when i buy 5 pairs that are the SAME i can never find a pair that match! what's with that?
Julie, I think Erma Bombeck was onto something with that whole alien thing!
Camy, so THAT'S where our socks are going, gang--to Camy's house!! Ours are gone, hers are multiplying, so therefore A+B must equal C. Okay, I was never good at math, but still, I'm wondering . . . .
Bethanie, I can so relate. Doesn't matter how many new pairs I buy, I have loners around the house. It's enough to make me want to go barefoot.
Di
Somehow, my husband's underwear has learned a trick or two from the socks, because now that's what's disappearing. Six months ago, I was asking my husband why he only brought 11 pair of undies with him, and now the number has dwindled to six. Where did they go?
I am CRYING over here. That is soooo funny. So are the responses.
I'm with Corina. :0)
I have the lost sock saga going here. We call it the Sock Monster or the Dryer Monster because we KNOW the dryer is the one that take them right?
Okay, I have an overactive imagination and this is taking me down Sci Fi roads I think are better left unexplored. :0)
If you ever find the culprit, will you see if he has any of my stray socks? He only brings them back after I've given up on finding them and tossed the mate. Ironic, eh? I'm not so sure that the socks themselves aren't the aliens, lol.
And before I hit send...my word verification is rather insulting this time around. What's with that? :D
Greetings from Kennesaw, Ga!!
This really gave me a chuckle. Over the years, I have bought dozens of black socks, so that I would always have matching socks and you know what, even they disappear!
You guessed it, even with all the socks being black, I come up with missing socks, and the ones I have don't match. I am serious. How can black socks not match?
Thanks for the chuckle and hope you don't mind me dropping in. I came to your blog via my friend Marilynn Griffith, via Faith Chick to here.
Would you all mind if I add you to my reads.
Blessings,
Writing for the King,
Paul
http://hillcountrythoughts.com/blog
Glad you dropped in, Paul. :-) Sorry about the socks, though. I guess we're all destined to walk around with mismatched socks. :-)
Diann
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