The dreaded call for the worst chore I could POSSIBLY inflict!
Matching the orphan socks in the yellow laundry basket of infinite depth
It's been a few years since I threw any away. And believe me, it's not like I am keeping the ooky socks, either; if a solo sock comes through that's holed, or threadbare, I chuck it. Now, maybe that's the root of some of this chaos. If I throw away *one* sock, that means there's an umatched sock left, right? But come on, how is it possible we have THIS MANY ORPHAN SOCKS!
This is just the white ones that have something *not* white on them (red stripes, words, gray toes/heels)
Here is the complete collection of socks.
I asked the kids to come up and look over the sadness. I call it ... The Apoca-sock-alypse.
And right away Suzu reaches out and snatches three or four socks off of the table.
"I have the matches for these. I was waiting for them!" So, three down, eighty-seven to go! Then Roxie Jane very slowly, quietly reaches out and picks up another.
"I'm wearing the other one of these right now."
I look and down and point at her feet. She has two socks on. She grins sheepishly, "They don't match exactly."
Does anyone with whom we might have stayed in the last several years (or who, in turn, might have stayed with us) recognize any socks as matching a straggler you have in your own orphan sock collection?
It was funny to me that everyone, all of the kids, even Jenni, rolled their eyes at my fervor. Why not wear socks that *almost* match?
Well, I understand. I've certainly done that in the past, especially if I'm low on socks (or if Jennilyn is taking a nap, and all my matched pairs are in our room). I don't know why it matters so much to me. I suspect part of it is a control thing; there are so many issues in my life where I have *NO* control at all, it is nice to have absolute perfect control of something.
But it comforts me to have socks that *really* match. They were acquired as a pair, they belong together.
So I'm tossing out the unmatched solos. So long, orphans!
Well, I am *going* to, anyway. In a couple of weeks, after all the other lonely stragglers have a chance to cycle through the laundry...so, really soon.