Isn’t that a fantastic title? Well, it’s fantastic in the sense of fanciful or implausible, but not fabulous. Socks don’t have thoughts or feelings or motives, except the ones I ascribe to them, of course. Then they take on a rich inner life, one in which they plot and strategize, form loyalties and enlist cooperation.
In my experience, socks have a one-track mind and that track is escape. Nothing else. I know this, I watch for this, yet they’re opportunistic little buggers and I regularly lose one or two a year. A sock sees a chance and, schwing, they hightail it. You can never relax your guard around them. Not if you love your socks as I do.
Washers and dryers, laundry rooms in general, are the Underground Railroad to a sock. In their eyes, it’s the path to freedom, but they’ll jump at any chance. Literally. Especially tube socks, those mothers are crazy, but every style — from knee socks to anklets — is shockingly heedless. I had one, a fluffy, low-cut number, leap from my balcony the other afternoon. Just threw itself over the side.
You see, I was out there reading a book when I spotted dog hair clinging to the soles of my socks. So I took them off and stood at the railing clapping them together like chalkboard erasers. One jumped from my hand and hovered momentarily in an updraft. I batted and snatched at the air, but to no avail. The sock fluttered and drifted gently away, eventually disappearing onto a balcony many floors below.
I console myself by imagining the dismay of the resident of that particular apartment. Socks do not appear of nowhere. They don’t just fall out of the sky. So how did this one weird, unfamiliar sock get there, they’ll wonder? I’m not talking and no one can make me. No, sir. No way, no how. This will remain my little secret until the day I die.
copyright © 2018 the whirly girl
the whirly girl 
16 responses to “: sock overboard :”
😂😂😂❤️❤️❤️
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😘
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What a hilarious piece! I just imagine the kind thought or imagination that brewed such a stress relieving write up. I am sure that many must have been healed reading.
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What a wonderful comment, thank you :o)
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You do know that all those disappearing socks come back as empty hangers in your closet, don’t you…?
It’s all to do with the Nestle® company, and that wholly unnecessary and disgusting school of reincarnation instant milk and Hindu fashion that they keep trying to foist on the more ancient and unsuspecting children in this space/time continuum.
It’s also right up there with beets and salmon cakes EVERY SINGLE THURSDAY NIGHT FOR YEARS…
*ahem*
Where was I…?
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GEEN-YUS‼️ GEEN-YUS‼️ GEEN-YUS‼️ GEEN-YUS‼️
I swear, you’re the funniest, smartest guy I know. 🙃
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Thank you for putting a little joy in my day. That is the best account of sock misadventures I have ever read.
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Thank you for putting some joy in mine 😘
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I have the same experience with gloves. I lose at least one every winter.
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Oh, I don’t stop with socks. I misplace just about anything portable, from flash drives to Swiffer mops and I’m not kidding. It’s expensive to be this flaky 😳
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I smiled, I really did
You are spontaneous and I love that. Thank you for making me smile🤗
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Yay❣️ And I like spotaneous much better than flighty. Thank you 🙃
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I figure that if there’s any justice in the universe, there’s a sock equilibrium, and for every odd sock we lose, we gain one. Maybe your, er, gravity-inclined sock set out to restore your neighbor’s. Or maybe I’ve lost my socks and my mind. At this rate, who knows?
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I love your theory! I have a number of socks missing mates, so I’ve decided — who cares if they match? Who cares if they’re the same style or color or pattern? I will happily mix and match from this day forward.
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You DO make me smile 😊
I’m sitting here going thru various messages and voicemails that are no fun at all. I took the time to read your blog instead of saving it for Funtime. Now I’m happy again. Thank you 🙏🏻
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I hope all is well and I keep making you smile. That’s my test. If I can make somebody smile, then there’s nothing to be afraid of. For them or me 🙃
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