Why My Socks Don’t Match

Why My Socks Don’t Match

Firstly, my socks do match. I bought all my socks in matching pairs. The problem is that they don’t seem to like each other that much. From the moment I snipped the clear plastic holding them together it became clear. They had been held against their will. Now, with this freedom, my socks do their utmost never to be seen together again.

I wear them together, I wash them together and then they are officially divorced. Opening the door of the washing machine after a cycle is usually where my frustration begins. I put in a pair of red socks – don’t question my taste – and one single, s'n-word'ing red sock will be waiting. It’s a sock, but it knows. It knows exactly where the other one is. Sock murder? Is this the guilty one lying shrivelled on the kitchen lino? Where’s the body? I stick my head into the fresh smelling water dome. Nothing.

I put the clothes on the radiator, inside out and upside down. Jeans and a t-shirt with three (clearly single) socks at the end. Usually at this point as I’m stuffing a denim trouser leg down the back of the rads, I’ll find a dusty clump of overheated sock. I pull it out. The Bin Laden of the sock world. It’s been in hiding for God knows how long. I study it, it seems familiar but it’s one time spouse is long gone. For some reason, I shake it out and place it with the other socks.

I stop halfway up the stairs. In the corner of step number six – yes, I count the number of steps each time I go, up and down – is an unwashed sock. This sock is one of those ones that leap from the wash basket as you carry it down the stairs. Was its partner so unbearable that it decided to commit suicide? Or did it have an awful fear of water? I’ll never know. I shove it in my pocket reminding myself it has to go into the machine later.

What about the other socks? The ones that hide in your trouser leg? Even after you shake the trousers, they stay in there. How? Do they grow tendrils? They cling on for dear life and you can only retrieve them by putting your hand in and pulling them out. Or the socks that drop to freedom from the washing line? You have clothes out to dry and it starts to rain. You run out and frantically un-peg everything while grimacing at the sky. It’s not until you get indoors and stand looking out the window at the rain that you notice a sodden lump of sockness in the grass.

I’ve tried forcibly attaching a pair of socks together using a peg. Peg a pair and throw it in the machine. Several pegs in the wash make a lot of noise. Or else that was the sound of the socks strangling each other. That’s the way they come out. If they haven’t used their unbelievable strength to remove themselves from the peg’s clutches, they are wrapped around each other so tightly that I have to assume they both died in the struggle.

It was at this point that I gave up. It made me question things about my life. Like why did my socks need to match? Why does it annoy me so to find only two socks of different coloured persuasion? What if socks really don’t like each other? Now I’m quite happy to pull on a pink sock and a blue sock, a white one and a green one, whatever is handiest. But if you’re still trying to keep your socks together, I can recommend only one thing. Put yourself in their shoes and see how it feels…

I welcome all comment and criticism.

Yes, well...comments you shall have. I was so fascinated by the concept of sentient socks that I began swimming through the web for more details. I say swimming because 'surfing' is a bit much for one my age, but I can dog paddle with the best of them.

*Ahem*

First of all, I must commend you on your bravery in exposing this facet of our worldly millieu, for bravery it is. In uncovering the conspiracy of socks, you are indeed treading dangerously deep waters as the following will show you;

www.flippyscatpage.com...

I had a theory about those socks. I began to research my sock theory and discovered that socks are alive and prone to disappearing. It is a little known fact that socks were created to destroy all living things. Cats were put on earth to stop this from happening. Socks you know wiped out the dinosaurs. Think about it -- you never see dinosaur remains with socks on do you? Dinosaurs were perfectly happy with their existence when suddenly, in the middle of the night, the socks arose and wiped out the entire species. Socks need darkness to do their dirty work. That's why they sometimes become lost in the washing machine. When you shut the lid, the socks awaken in the darkness and attempt to escape. They send scouts into the sewer system to check for alligators, while the rest wait behind for word of the situation. Unfortunately, the wash cycle is too short for them to all escape before you open the lid and let the light in. Fortunately, the dryer lint trap is too small for them to escape through, although some have been known to commit suicide by reverting to their original lint form.

There are a number of other souls who have taken pen to paper in league with the sock rebellion

www.pursuit.co.nz...

Politicians tend to make heroes out of people when it suits them. Norman, an eight-year old that innocently wore different coloured socks was described as the leader of the sock rebellion and a person with great courage. He was made chairman of the Sock Exchange.

There's a name for the fear of sentient socks...

www.tomatonation.com...

No doubt a Greek scholar in the readership can hit me with a better root, but until then, you may consider it coined: the term for "fear of socks" is pedalophobia.

And then I found this...

psychology.suite101.com...
According to cartoonist Gary Larson, luposlipaphobia is the fear of being pursued by timberwolves around a kitchen table while wearing socks on a newly waxed floor.

Thanks, Yossarian, for awakening the world to The Impending Attack Of The Sentient Socks
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tried to fix linky...



[edit on 18-10-2006 by masqua]

Wow, look at that. Maybe socks deserve a forum all of their own.

Yeah the way socks go missing and make an actual effort to piss you off is almost a conspiracy of its own

While Googling for images (for an unrelated thread), I came across this one. Perhaps an explanation?

A tale with definite socks appeal.

Well written.

There has to be an explanation for it, but darned if I know.

Gave up long ago and now buy only white socks....

Nice pic Mechanic.

Explains everything!

I loved this story. My socks often play hide and seek with me on laundry day. I believe that they take great delight in this game. For those who wish to match socks, may I suggest this site.

That was fun and well written.

I solved the problem when I started buying huge bunches of the same socks.
If I need more socks I buy 3-4 packs of 12 pairs that are all the same.
(That's almost 100 individual socks that are all identical)

I can leave my socks on the floor anywhere in the house and they alway seem to find their way back to the sock drawer all cleaned and tucked together.

Get yourself a man that does laundry.