Sock It Toomy

The divorce rate amongst my socks is astounding.

How could so many happily paired up couples be disbanding and forced to live the lonely single life on top of the shelf above the dryer? They all just lay there waiting for their counterpart to return….when inevitably they will be matched up with a sock that is similar but not quite the same as the match they had before. The “match” might be shorter….slightly discolored…have a few tears or holes.

Sometimes in a pure upheaval of laundered bliss an ankle sock is paired with a dress sock just to thin out the singularity of purpose.

Eventually all the singles get thrown away and the cycle starts over.

The madness has to stop.

I devised a plan to find out what was happening. I called it-


I even got my step son involved. He is 16 and needs to be well versed in the problems that face a household.

We first went to “the Walmart” and bought 2 packs of socks. He chose a package of black no show socks. I chose the old man standard white tube socks (no color band around the top…that would have been weird). We headed home to start our experiment.

Step 1- wear a pair of new sock each day for six days.

Step 2-place worn socks into specially marked basket marked “Sweat Box”.

Step 3- on the seventh day take samples to laundry room.

Step 4-count sweat box samples, before machine loading, to ensure none have escaped.

Step 5- load into washer.

Step 6-wash

Step 7- count socks individually to ensure none escaped.

Step 7- transfer to dryer

Step 8- complete drying cycle

Step 9- recount

Step 10- analyze findings

Step 11- submit findings to the Scientific Laundry Institute

Step 12- sit back and wait for the praises!!

Simple and efficient. No way this plan could go awry.

Communication was somehow lost around step 1.

There my stepson and I stood. I was taking socks out of the box, counting and pairing as I went.

The raw stench was almost unbearable.

I counted out my white socks first. 12 socks. Six pairs. Perfect.

I looked into the box and there were 3 black socks and a kind of yellowish ankle sock almost standing at attention. I guess crispy would be the correct description.

“What the heck is this, son??”

“those are my socks…”

“You wore these 2 pair of socks for six days? Wh…wh…what about our experiment?? SOCK AND AWE…remember? We were going to solve one of the great mysteries in the history of laundry. 2 pair for SIX days?? How did this happen? What about my data?”

“Chill dad. It’s just socks. I was playing Call of Duty and forgot about your experiment. I’m tired when I get up so I just grab the first socks I see. You are always yelling at me to get up so I don’t have time to wear clean ones. Sometimes I just sleep in the ones from the day before and wear them again. Can I go now, I’m the Captain of our online raid team…they are playing without me.”

“……………….” I stare blankly. As he shrugs and walks back into the house.

Sometimes it “socks” to be me.



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