A taste of FAITH, a touch of LAUGHTER.
The Sock Eater
I used to call my washer “The Sock Eater”. Two socks go in, only one comes out.
I kept all the odd socks for our family of five. I was the self appointed “Keeper of the Socks”. It started out small, a little kitchen garbage bag, but my collection grew over time.
We lost socks. We bought more. I tried to buy socks of the same length and colour but I could not control what others bought for themselves or what was gifted.
My odd sock collection grew despite all my attempts to scour the house for partner socks. I now had not one small kitchen bag, not two, but 3 LARGE garbage bags of unmatched socks of assorted sizes, lengths and colours.
Hope seemed to spring eternal that I would find the partner somewhere, someday. Indeed, each time the sock bags were dragged out, there were occasional “finds’ and great celebration on my part, not that anyone else in the house cared! The sock collection, however, continued to grow, despite all efforts.
I began to colour code them to make sorting easier….
I thought of dyeing them all so they could all be used……
Does anyone suspect OCD? 😉
It took many years and much frustration for me to finally decide one momentous day…….to let the socks go. I sat on the floor, surrounded by this hopelessly vast array of unmatched socks and admitted my defeat. These socks had to GO!!!!
Taking all my courage and dread in hand, just knowing I’d live to regret my decision because, the minute I disposed of them, I’d suddenly locate all the other sides of these socks in some miraculous fashion, off I went to the nearest garbage can!
Wow! What freedom! No more careful and dedicated drudgery to the sock situation. No more guilt that I had not done enough.
No more odd socks to haunt my laundry days!
Fast forward several years. I am babysitting my granddaughter, while my son is in Afghanistan.
My granddaughter loves multicolored socks and had quite a few of them scattered throughout the house. I made a valiant effort to rally the socks, with her help, and pair them up, but it was tough. They were multicolored in so many different ways, it seemed. I left potential partner socks on the drier and checked for the occasional find. I was getting nowhere fast. I bought her plain socks which she hated.
My granddaughter did not really care whether or not her socks matched, as long as they were colourful. It did bother me and I tried my best to share my vision of a world of matched socks, but she had no interest and eventually purposely mismatched socks most days, even though I had previously carefully matched them.
Haha! It makes me smile 😉
Another 2 years go by…….
I’m happy to say that I am quite over this addiction. It was rather sad and only accommodated my OCD tendencies.
No, wait a minute….I know I put two socks in that washer and here there is only one! Ah, I’ll just add it to the sock drawer.
Maybe the partner will show up some day soon….. 😉
Tee hee! 😉
(the pic below is rather a sad afterthought)