Return of the Sock Monster

On a weekly basis, my husband begins to kvetch. About his socks….you have never heard anyone kvetch about socks more in your life! Oy! And it seems that he is tormented by a sock monster…one who steals his socks away….everyday.  I barely wear shoes and yet I am blamed for the disappearance of said socks.  Let me ask you this, if I am wearing them and then putting them into the dirty clothes with the rest of my clothing, why, when the rest of my clothing is still around, are the socks not?

I have funky feet, let’s not beat around the bush on that subject.  This is why I mostly go barefoot.  And I will admit, to borrowing a pair of socks at least once a week.  But when I do the laundry, I see socks…why can’t he?  Is he sock myopic?  Is it a deeply rooted need to lay blame on me for his lack of sock retrieving abilities? I dunno….the more I go through this life, the weirder it gets….maybe we DO have a sock monster among us.  Perched in the darkness of the laundry room waiting to pounce on random white sports socks eventually maintaining the total sock count house-wide to an odd number.

There is a part of me that, while doing laundry, and being lectured about said socks, longs to gather up all of the socks house-wide and fling them from the highest rooftop available.  Laughing, laughing the whole of their descent into the free world….unpaired…

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