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

  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

Now, how did THIS happen?

I've been repeatedly pestered by folks to start a blog. A what? A Blog?! What the heck? (this portrays my helplessly antiquated notions of technology, I thought blog was initially a made up word. Like fax. Yes, I'm hanging my head in shame) So, here I am, having navigated the inital waters of cyberspace. My life is remarkable, and unremarkable all at the same time. What with children, a husband, a demon beast of a dog, and a burgeoning academic professorship, I've got ALOT on my plate. And plenty of "front lines" to speak from. My basic philosophy, borrowed from someone much cleverer than I, is "If you can't be a inspiring example, be a terrible warning". I've been both, I'm afraid. And, so, perhaps have you.
4 comments
Read more

You may just want to skip this one.

I've never written a "Dear John" letter before. Mainly, because I never dated a John. I dated a Jon, I think. A "Jeff" was in there, too, I believe and a "Mike". But, never a John. And this isn't written to a person, but to a group of individuals, who shall, to my best ability remain anonymous. They deserve anonymity, not for their protection, but because I would rather cut off my fingers than direct anyone else to this organization, of which I was once so proud. So be it. Dear "board", You are a thief. You stole my time, my talent and my heart. You wasted my time, prostituted my talent and broke my heart. You inspired me to corrupt my values, and gave me a chance to settle for incredibly less than I was worth. Your standard in what consitutes "funny" and "clever" and "witty" is among the cheapest in the industry. And, I certainly bought into it for a time. No more. No longer. It's not funny, an...
2 comments
Read more