Socks

And speaking of socks…

Given how many singles I have around, of what I am sure were once pairs, socks’ relationships must not last as long as they used to. I mean, when I was a child, I don’t remember any single socks. They were always in pairs. Is it just that they don’t like living together anymore?

Maybe it’s because I keep them sort of rolled together in a drawer. Maybe they’re just too close now, and long for the days when they were mostly apart – when they had more “me” time. Is that what causes it?

Or do they decide to separate because one of them changes? “Joe, I don’t know why you had to go and get that hole in your toe? Don’t you respect yourself any more?” Or even bigger changes. “Denise, since you went through the wash with those red socks, you just don’t look the same anymore. Are you wearing more makeup now?”

Or maybe they just like being in a crowd? I have many of my “singles” in one large pile. Maybe they’re all socializing in there. (Oh my heaven – I hope I’m not contributing to a swinging lifestyle!)

It’s nice when one of them returns home to their mate. “Joan, I’m back. I missed you – the way we used to cuddle together in the drawer. It just wasn’t the same with all those others.” “Others? Oh John, how could you?” “No, no, Joan – it wasn’t like that. We just hung out together. I haven’t been physical with any other sock but you!” “Oh, John!” Okay, you guys. Get a room!

Maybe this is just one of those mysteries of the universe better left unsolved.

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