I lose things all the time. My housekeys, those for the car, my sunglasses, credit cards, you name it, I've probably lost it fairly recently. They always turn up again, though, so that's hardly an issue (ok so credit cards need to be ordered but still).
What really gets to me sometimes is that one great mystery we all have in our lives (yes, I'm sure you do, too). It's inexplicable, it happens to everyone, there's no logic and it's as annoying as wearing ice skates in hell.
No, I'm not talking about lost love(s). This is much more relevant to day-to-day living in the corporeal rather than emotional sense. Here it is:
What is it, exactly, that happens to our socks when we put them in the wash?
I've lost many, many socks that way. Usually my favourite ones, too.
Actually, it's always my favourites. (duh)
I've come up with many theories over the years as to how, exactly, one of at least one pair of socks per wash goes AWOL, some...ehm...scientific, some not so much.
Socks can lose threads, which in turn get caught in the mechanics of the drum you put your washing in. They then get sucked into the filter or to some other mysterious place in the washing machine, never to be seen again (unless they're reincarnated as the fluff you need to pick out of the filter when the machine refuses to pump off the water).
It's a conspiracy between the washing machine companies and the sock companies to make sure you can't ever stop buying socks, especially those really soft and snuggly expensive ones, or those delicate little summer socklets you like so much. For the men out there, that's also the reason why a blue sock is never the same blue as another blue sock - imagine if you could make up pairs with two 'widowed' socks... the sock industry would be ruined! GASP!
There's a sock eating monster that comes with every washing machine. It's a distant cousin to the one that pokes holes in your thights to give you ladders, and probably related by marriage to the little gremlin that makes sure toast always lands on the buttered side. This sock eating individual takes fiendish pleasure in picking out one of each pair of socks, never two the same, and displays them in it's home like hunting trophies. Imagine a room full of christmas stockings, only without the presents or santa or christmas. Once a month or so there's probably a sock eating monster poker evening where they compare the size and length of sock they've managed to capture. Maybe they even stuff them, who knows.
The single sock that comes out of wash #1 is in fact the same one that comes out of wash #2, wash #3, wash #ad infinitum, because for some reason that one sock always lands back in the laundry basket in the hope that the second one might make it there eventually, too.
Sock 1 ends up all alone after wash 1 because sock 2 is in fact amongst the bedding of wash 2. They shall eventually meet again, but only if you pick sock 2 out of the pillowcase AND remember that this is not Another Lonely Sock but in fact the partner of sock 1.
OK I'm all explained out. All I know is this:
- Pairs of socks go into the wash
- Single socks come out of the wash
So I'm going to go with Explanation #3 and hope for the best. Maybe the Sock eating monster has a cousin that eats dust bunnies?
What have you lost and/or found lately?
ps. do go check out Myne's blog, her second book, A Love Rekindled, will be out soon!