Fox in Sox

Ok, the title of this blog is odd, I know, but stick with me on this. Fox in Sox was my first born child, Tyler's favorite book for approximately one year. And when I say favorite book, I mean we read it every night. And when I say "we", I mean me. I mean, Tyler couldn't read and Bruce had bath duty and I had bedtime duty, so, yeah, basically, it was me. Although Tyler couldn't read, apparently, he could comprehend or memorize because if you skipped a page, and I tried, BELIEVE ME, I tried! He would fareak out! OCD and Rainman!

So, this year long ritual led to me basically memorizing that horrible book. Each night I would drone on and try to sound excited. It also led to, in a weird way, the title of this blog. This blog is about the mis-matched socks in my house. They haunt me, they torture me, they enrage me. I have a collection of very nice running socks and men's dress socks, women's dress socks, soccer socks and even some crappier versions of all. I feel compelled to keep them all because their match will appear. On occasion, I will throw one of the loners away. If it's particularly ratty or it is a sock I've never seen and I'm convinced was abandoned in our house... I just don't have the time or energy to deal with that, so they must go.

Some laundry weeks are quite successful and I find a lot of them, but others are very depressing. I fight the urge to call appliance repair people to discuss the odds of washers and dryers eating socks.

Last night I had an epiphany. I thought that at some point we will have all of our stray socks accounted for. I was elated for approximately 2 seconds and then the thought hit me... that will be such a sad day. We won't have any kids in the house to lose a sock under their bed, or in their gym bag, or locker, or friend's house, or there won't be any friend's extra sock to haunt our loner pile. I gulped and immediately was quite happy that I currently house approximately 20 single mis-matched socks, waiting for their "E Harmony" moment to find their "sole" mate.

I will keep the socks. I have faith their mates will show up. I think that Dr. Seuss could rhyme this... I don't feel like it.