There are many things I don’t understand. There are secrets to the Universe that I’m pretty sure I’ll never know. And that’s ok. But sometimes, I just can’t figure something out and it drives me crazy. Case in point – dryer socks. Because I have four kids, three of whom are boys who wear their socks outside in the grass or through a puddle of mud, we go through a fair number of socks. I’ve done laundry at the laundry mat before and I’ve discovered that it doesn’t really matter where you laundry – home or away – sometimes socks disappear. There is nothing you can do about it. *Poof* they are gone and the less time you look for the lost sock the better, because wherever they went, you will never find them. Go pour yourself a martini and let it go.
I frequently wear mismatched socks. In fact, you can buy them that way now. I’m positive this doesn’t just happen to me. But that is not the answer I’m looking for. I’m puzzled by the reverse.
Yesterday we did load upon load of clothes. Positively mountains of dirty clothes at my house. We did this laundry in the washer and dryer at our home. The same washer and dryer we’ve owned for the entire two years we’ve lived in this home. We’ve had no small children visit or stay the night in this home. Ever. Not that they weren’t invited, but they just haven’t seen fit to guilt their parents into coming over and spending enough nights to warrant doing that in-between-load-of-laundry before you head home. The Hump Day Load, if you will.
So, please tell me where this sock came from, Universe?
Where? My daughter had a sock that size approximately 14+ years ago. In a different house. In a different country. With a different washer and dryer. And I’m oh-so-positive that none of my boys ever wore pink socks.
HEY! That’s the one I’m missing. Can you send it back? We’re in Kansas City. It’s a Maytag dryer.
(cue the theme to Twilight Zone.)
Have posted it’s twin on my site for forensic’s to check out – I think you’ll find it was lurking in my dryer along with a pair of delinquent buddies . . . ..
seriously, it makes no sense. perhaps this is a case for the
A Reason A Season A Lifetime“slackmistress & mr. boy detective agency”
um, i screwed that link up. feel free to delete it.
Did the washer and dryer come with the house? Sometimes socks get caught between the basket and side of the washer. If not, then I have no clue. Perhaps you should ask your children if any of them has an illegitimate baby they would like to tell you about.
Don’t you know that every new washer and dryer comes with a pink sock in it? Once you’ve done 3000 loads, it drops out and that is your cue to get the dryer serviced. (Kinda like the “Check engine” light on your car).
Socks should come with microchips, like they do for animals.
Static electricity, my dear, finally dropped this sock out of some ancient sweatshirt belonging to King Tut. And he wants it back.
Oh, and one time, after dropping off my stuff at one of those wash-n-fold laundry places, I had a foreign pair of underpants sent back to me. They were pink and really, really large. I had an awesome time picking on Tobyjoe with them.
“Whose are these! WHOSE ARE THESE?! YOU FILTHY, CHEATING BASTARD!”
They became the “Where’s Waldo” of underpants, ending up in odd places where each of us took turns stumbling upon them.
socks seriously are one of life’s biggest mysteries. that and donald trump’s hair….
I have two chicks at home, ages 3 and 5. Since my entire world is bathed in pink, i’m quite sure it’s mine. Send it to Houston.
Socks defy natural laws.
Crafty devil!
That is too funny.
It also reminds me of when I was younger about once every two months we would have ‘sock matching’ parties. My 3 older siblings, my parents and I would have pizza watch a movie and an entire garbage bag full of all the mis-matched socks would be dumped in front of us. The party ended when all the matches that could be made were done and the socks that still had no match were put back in the bag for next time.
I didn’t like doing it at the time, but it’s oddly one of my fondest memories of growing up.
It used to be a large white sock, but you accidently washed it in a load with a red shirt, and then accidently shrunk it in the dryer. Although I like Jeff’s theory too.