socksOne of lifes great mysteries, where do the socks go. Most people, probably, at least get the two into the wash basket, still as a couple. The children, whose socks I am responsible for, can lose a sock before they’ve even had time to take them off. We walk through the door. I put down my bag and turn around to look at them and their shoes and socks are off their feet and one sock is missing. I kid you not. This happens at our own house and any other house I care to take them into. Every time I see their grandmother, she hands me a santa sack of socks.

I have an entire drawer in each child’s wardrobe of currently unmatched socks. My record time frame to find a mate currently stands at 18 months. It would be longer but I’d sadly given up and discarded the 2 year potential a week before finding his partner.

As soon as I saw it, I knew the pattern on the sock was familiar. Haha, I thought, it’s all worthwhile, in the end. These two sad socks will have their reunion and everyone will come away feeling that much better about life, the world and missing socks. I almost ran into the boys room, flung the cupboard door open and started rifling through the sock drawer. As my hands made their way through the single sock equivalent of speed dating, my mind replayed the last week.

I had had the ingenious idea of using our single socks as glass protectors when we moved house and for reasons too clumsy to explain, I had left one large glass still encased in its guardian sock. The other half of the sock I was currently holding. As fate would have it, I had unpacked the glass the week before and I had figured, since the move had been quite some time before, 2 years, to be precise, the chances of finding this sock were naught and so I heartlessly tossed it into the bin.

Life can be so cruel sometimes. I stood their holding the now doomed to be partnerless for eternity sock in my hand. Defeated. Best laid plans of mothers and socks.

Some of my sons socks have been partenered with a suitable substitute; similar size, shape and social interests. None of them have complained, socks or children for that matter. I’m a romantic at heart, best to get on with what you can than live life as a recluse. Every socks deserves a chance.

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