Skip to main content

Sock-gate/sock-mate...musings from the laundry pile

Or let's get real.."Why am I the only one who can find a damn pair of socks in this house?"

I am making this a sock tutorial.  Why is it needed?  Because *I*, evidently, am the only one who can match up socks in this house.

So, here's how I work the magic that I do:  Pay attention, those of single sock inclination:

1.  Have a home for the single sock.  I do.  It's a drawer.  I get laundry, there's a sock...where's it's mate?  I have no earthly idea, so I swing the sock into the "single drawer".  But, here's the thing...it is implied..hoped..strived for...that someone.other.than.me will look into the single sock home and work a little "match.com" or "tinder" or "Christian Mingle" magic with these soulful wanderers.  Let's look, shall we?   Behold the single sock in it's singularity.  Is true love possible?




Hmmm.  No.  While I approve of diversity in marriage and life:   these. DO. NOT. go together.  They do not.


Well.  Lord-looky-there.  A match.  And there it is. Right there in the single sock drawer.  It's mate. And you can FOLD these two together, Bundle them, and place them neatly in the MATCHED SOCK DRAWER.  



But I am not all about the strict matchy-matchy, you all (and you haters know who you are...)

Let's look further.  Behold! ubiquitous gold toed black men's sock with ribbing.  Conservative and useful, it is alone.




Until....


BAM! Another black sock!  

Oh, yeah...I know, I know....it doesn't have gold on the toe.  But it does have matching ribbing on the leg, so unless someone is wearing these, and I, for some unknown reason, chase them down, wrench off their conservative loafer or wingtip type shoe and triumphantly hold their feet in the air, displaying the obvious discrepancy:  It. Ain't. Gonna. Matter, Son.




It won't matter....unless you are wearing socks with sandals.  If you are, that is an issue beyond the scope of this tutorial.

So, what I'm saying is this:  Keep the single sock drawer. Revel in singularity.  Occasionally, for the love of God Himself, get in there and see if you can make love happen, pair them up.  Be creative, (gold toe with non-gold toe), but not crazy (no blue with green).  Because when the only person who does do this, goes in and finds *7* pairs of socks that could have been paired up and folded and placed with the loving rightful owners, it makes her 7 kinds of crazy. 

And then, you get this blog entry. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

People are basically kind.

So, I have/had a goldfish.  He's currently living out his life in an aquarium in the basement of my home. But, he longs for wider areas to roam.  I don't KNOW this as he has not burbled his preference to me, but my son, the fish expert assures me this is so. And, thus, I took to Nextdoor: Below is my entry. TLDR, need pond for goldfish to live. Healthy fish. If you can help, comment or PM me. Y'all. Y'all....I can't make this stuff up. The Goldfish, that you may remember from my previous post is now referred to in capital letters and an honorific, bestowed upon him by me. Sir Fin, of the House Goldfish, is seeking an abode that far, far transcends his practically new 10-gallon aquarium. Do you know of a pond where he may reign? Or, in the way of the circle of life, live out his destiny? He's a good fish, quiet. Very quiet, in a goldfish way. He would not disturb, I would not think. Healthy. Bright, snappy fins. Clear, if vacant eyes. ...
Post a Comment
Read more
  Well, THAT was humbling. I adore it when the Lord puts me in my place. Really.  Like my favorite thing EVER. Because, you know, I just never stray very far from how I know He wants me to act and be.  Right. When the Lord puts me in line, it's more of an "attitude adjustment" along the lines of Extreme Makeover Edition.  I'll be karping along, muttering sullenly and sacrastically about this, that or the other and.... WHOOPS.... **************************************************** The Almighty gifts me with a hard smack right across the back of the head. Yes.  I remember when, a long time ago, I likened wanting to be in the will of God so feverently that I would pray that God would just pick me up if I was on the wrong path, like an errant turtle, put me on the right way and if necessary, place me on my back so the only direction I could look was up to heaven.  Turtle on it's back.  Yes indeed, Lord.  Flip me like a tutle on it's back. I...
1 comment
Read more

Oh, the gently chiding plurality of it all....Jewels visits the doctor.

He's such a sweet man. Really. It's a shame I dislike him. He's done nothing to deserve it, really. All he's done is tell me the truth. And the truth is: I'm fat. He's tall and thin, with brown hair and I think he has eyes. I'm not sure, because I cannot look this man in the eyes. Never have. Probably never will. There are reasons for this: there's so much ELSE to look at in his office, scales, blood pressure equipment and the endlessly facinating poster of "Lifeline - your blood's biological journey". I've stared at it so many times that I can practically tell you...nothing. Because I'm sitting in his office, with hands and knees tightly clenched as he delivers the news about my weight gain in a somber, gently chiding tone. "You were HERE in Feb. 2005, and now, you are HERE", he points to an appalling number. "Uh-huh." this is from me. "And we need to get you down here", he points again, the...
2 comments
Read more