well this socks

One thing that I will fail to understand is how there is always that one extra sock left after doing laundry. Where do they go? Is there a Neverland for lost socks, or does the machine purposely guzzle the most frustrating item of clothing to lose as a fee for drying? Maybe they just hate being crammed into a dark drawer, awakened rudely, stuffed into shoes, and then stepped on all day. It’s a rough life being a sock, and I can see why they might want to escape.

Even though you’re only missing one sock, somehow every pair of socks you own end up being mismatched and nothing is the same, and you just don’t know what to do with that one extra sock. Should you put it in the drawer and forget about it, should you keep it as some sort of memorial, or should you just throw it away? There’s no good way to fold a single sock.

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72 thoughts on “well this socks

  1. Simple: socks are cannibalistic. Ever see giant holes in your socks? Those are unfinished attacks of one sock against another that you have unwittingly thwarted by opening the dryer door too soon.

    If you never see any holes, that’s because the sockivore incorporates its prey into its own weave to fill out any weak spots, much like a lion will digest and metabolize the protein of a gazelle.

    Thus, it is extremely important to let the dryer cycle come to a complete stop so everybody can settle in there and look innocent after the sound of the buzzer. The lint trap is the drain hole cover of a butcher shop; handle with care.

    • i believe this is the best reason i’ve heard to explain the sock phenomenon. i’m loving all your comments btw. well, most ;)

      • True, this one was inspired. It just erupted out of nowhere. A very thick nowhere full of anxiety, insomnia, and snark. A fine cocktail for a writer, now that I think about it.

        Why didn’t you stay in Seattle? There’s so much less dust up here in the Pacific Northwest.

        • i know, right? i moved to la la land to play badminton for a year or so (of all things), and now i can hear the call of the motherland and will return in ten days. seattle is definitely less dusty, and going back is a… must-y

          • Badminton, eh? Well, I guess if you only live once, you might as well play with the bad one. The good mitten just gets slobber spots on it from petting friendly dogs, anyway. Now, about your shuttlecock….

            What’s in Seattle? Never got farther than Aberdeen. I saw all the wave-smoothed agates on the beach and got distracted.

  2. u r easy is so nice

  3. adairmoon says:

    There is something to be said for mismatched socks. In fact one of the best presents I ever received was a package of socks that had no matching pairs. I knew the person really understood me. :)

  4. The Vigilant Robot says:

    I must be the only person in the world who gets most of their pairs of socks back from the dryer. I think I have maybe one sock missing. I think most of them really end up getting lost to and from the drying machine. That’s it! The sock monster does not live inside the machine, but preys on people while they are in transportation to and from the machine.

  5. LouisCypher says:

    If Stephen Hawkins wasn’t in a wheel chair, do you think people may just imply he’s off his rocker?? Black Holes in watching machines snatching socks? Well maybe in your house wheels but in mine we call that LOST…
    Besides, better one Less than one more, imagine how freaky that would be.

  6. Mr. CATSOE says:

    I vote a neighborhood “Sock-Swap” event.. Just bring all single socks.. and swap..!! (wouldn’t it be funny if you found your your “lost” sock in someone else’s swap pile).. ;)

  7. benzeknees says:

    When I met hubby, he had 20 pairs of exactly the same socks. That way, if he lost a sock or put a hole in a sock, then he always had a drawer full of the same kind to match with it.

  8. Mike says:

    If you apply to the Department of Missing Socks you may qualify for a Replacement Grant when funds become available (works better during an election year).

  9. I don’t know why socks disappear in the laundry—not in pairs, just one—but I do know that the day you throw away that odd sock, its long-lost mate will turn up.

  10. eejaygee says:

    In our house the missing sock is usually under the palm trees at the bottom of the garden, thanks to Trudy, the big blonde dog. She has a fascination for my husband’s socks – mine, apparently, don’t have the same tantalising features.
    I must also take this opportunity to admit that there have, on occasion, been items which have become “torn” in the wash. These have, on every single occasion, been items belonging to my husband that I found aesthetically offensive. Now, isn’t that interesting????

  11. joeyjeelove says:

    This is funny yet very true. I thought I was the only one haha. If a sock is missing its other half, I would turn the remaining one into a hand puppet and play it with my cats or I just play a sock tug of war with my dogs. :D

    • I used to do that, play tug of war with my dog with a stray sock. That is until he learned how to open the dryer himself and take out the socks himself and invite his own friends over to play. Then I had to put a stop to it. Especially when they found out how much fun it was to play threesome with my pantyhose.

  12. mfcampbell93 says:

    This made me laugh a bit haha. Socks always seem to hide from me when I am in a rush to go somewhere– especially the “fancy” ones for special occasions. They probably think they are too good for my feet. >:/ But I guess they have their reasons.

  13. It’s not as if you can pair odd socks with odd gloves either.

  14. youfriendrandall says:

    1. I’m wearing mismatched socks right now.
    2. I have to pay to wash my socks, so if the dryer is charging me an extra sock fee to wash them, on top of the $1.25 it already costs, well…. that’s just not fair.

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