If you’ve come here looking for inspiration please look away now. In fact, please leave the room and close the door behind you because this is most definitely not ‘that’ kind of post. This is one of those ‘why can I not sort this out’ posts that forces you to write about it before your head explodes.
Socks, in particular odd socks, are the proverbial bane of my life.
Not unusually for a family of five, we have loads of socks. They get everywhere and, it would appear, I am apparently incapable of putting two socks in a washing machine and pulling two socks out after they’ve been pummelled and spun.
This is my odd sock basket:
Yes, such is the magnitude of the problem, I need an entire basket to house it. Where do they go? I wholeheartedly believe in the Borrowers and have no problem with them inhabiting the space between the skirting and the wall, but I really wish they’d just take pairs and be done with it.
This is the contents of my sock basket, see the little buggers mocking me in their solitude?:
At the last count, there were 71 of the little blighters in there and that doesn’t include the 7 that I put out of their misery. Desolate in my sock-induced despair, I did what most people do, I tried to share my problem, letting it all out one day to a friend I’d hoped would sympathise. She was aghast, claimed she’d never heard of such a phenomenon and laughed at my pain.
Two weeks later, she announced that she’d “done a Paula”. She’d lost a sock… one, solitary sock.
It’s a start….welcome to my world…
I think she is either lying or an alien!
I got so sick of all my odd socks that i just threw them away in a fit of peak a couple of weeks ago. and yes, of course, within days I started to find the matching ones. now I’m just throwing all those away too and if people can’t look after their own bloomin’ socks they’re just gonna have to go bare foot. and yes, that goes for the 26 month old too. Harumph!
Socks suck. So there.
Have you read “A Place Called Here” by Cecelia Aherne? That explains where all the odd socks go.
I’m so anal I refuse to throw them away….I feel like I’m running a sock orphanage and one day I’ll be able to reunite them….think your attitude is healthier!
Px
Nope – but I’ll have to now *adds to ever-increasing reading list*
Px
sock gnomes *nods wisely* they’re a plague – they’re related to the ‘who took the only working pen in the house’ pixies and the ‘hold on, where did i put my keys’ fairy.
and no doubt second cousin to the ‘who used the last of the milk and put the carton back’ elf…
I’d like to say we’ve made a virtue out of necessity by simply wearing odd socks in this house. But that’s not quite true. What my daughter HAS done is insist on me buying her deliberately ‘odd’ socks. Someone makes them and sells the contents of your odd-sock box! Can you believe it?
I’ve seen those! What a great idea and kudos to you for bringing up a child liberated enough to embrace the idea. Sadly on the one occasion I dared to suggest that odd sockage might be the way forward, all 4 horsemen came storming through my house signalling the apocalypse *sigh*
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