Right now mine is in the basket under my bed with some more from this past week in a duffel bag. I have some time today, so I should really do it tonight, and not scrounge around for clean socks until the weekend.
I don't really want to have to carry everything down to the first floor and wait a full hour and a half until my clothes to be clean. Only to find out, of course, that I'm bringing back two socks that I have never seen before and that I am missing three - all of which belong to different partners.
Socks are the hussies of clothing I think.
They aren't faithful to their partners, instead hooking up with any stray sock they can find that remotely looks like themselves. When the subject of commitment comes up, they hitch a ride with the washer and don't come back to town until the whole thing has blown over. Assuming they come back at all.
Maybe they just realized that if they never got out of that hamper they would never get out. Their dreams were always out of reach and they figured that this dirty little crate was holding them back.
From being a self-employed business sock.
Or getting cosmetic surgery - those toe socks always got special treatment.
Or getting their big break as a sock puppet.
Or if dreams really came true, flying in the sky, flapping and clapping as a wind sock.
So they split.
Some come back, their hearts crushed, but a little wiser about the industry.
But the others. Well, I certainly haven't heard from them.
Now patterned socks, they have morals.
2 comments:
EW @ getting someone else's sock. That has NEVER happened to me. I would be weirded out to the max. But I love that you're so analytical and witty...about socks. : )
yeah, you just gave me a new way of viewing my sock other than a piece of fabric to cushion my feet from the harsh texture of a shoe.
hope you will continue writing so i can follow your train of thought...
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