Socks are Tricky Beasts

I’ve come to the conclusion that socks are tricky beasts. Yes, I said socks. Consider the evidence. It’s common knowledge they run away from home when taken to the laundry. Grateful clothing simply doesn’t behave that way. Clearly, socks are trouble. Even when you think you’ve developed a close relationship, the perfect fit, they go get a holier-than-thou attitude, and Bam! Your toe’s sticking out.

Sometimes, early in the morning or when you have an important meeting, they turn into practical jokers. They conspire quietly in their drawer before it’s opened. Then they creep about, leaving their pair like some cotton poly blend Wife Swap episode. If you’re a man, navy blue and black pretend to be the same. If you’re a woman, well, truth is they usually know better than to try this trick on a woman.

Last weekend, one of my daughter’s friends caught one hiding in a boot after a sleepover. We turned the car around and scoured the bedroom only to discover the little stinker giggling in the boot, minding its own business and causing no problems whatsoever as it sat silent and respectful in the backseat of the car.

Now my socks, they’re the worst of all. They huddle. Purely on their own volition, and I suspect out of sheer spite, they congregate in piles on the floor around my recliner. They know this bothers my wife, yet they continue this scandalous behavior. Needless to say, I get in trouble, and I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate their antics. Perhaps it’s time to embrace the flip flop, a much more stable and cooperative creature, so long as you can avoid stray bottle caps.