Operation Sock Hunt

Lately I’ve noticed an alarming increase in the number of orphan socks in my sock drawer.  Somewhere, somehow, individual socks have been rebelling against continued menial foot service, breaking up their partnerships, dropping out and falling off the grid, and apparently attempting to maintain an appropriate social distance.  It’s gotten to the point where there’s about a 1:1 ratio between loner socks and viable sock pairs.

Obviously, such an intolerable situation cannot be accepted.  Since Kish and I are hanging at home this weekend anyway, I decided that it was a good time to commence Operation Sock Hunt. 

The first phase of O.S.H. involves thinking like a sock — a sock that is desperate to break free of social constraints and live its own life, unfettered by the expectations of its fellow socks.  (This is surprisingly easy to do on a weekend, by the way.)  Where might such a sock go to do its own thing?

After first channeling the spirit of a runaway sock, Operation Sock Hunt next requires a rigorous examination of all likely hiding places for the sock recluses.  That means going down into the basement and carefully examining every dusty, ill-lighted nook and cranny around the washer and dryer.  And, it also requires getting down on hands and knees and looking under every item of furniture in the house, especially beds — not easy duty when you’ve got hardwood floors, I might add.  And the final step is looking in every clothing drawer to see whether the principles of static electricity may have caused a orphan sock to cling, say, to a random sweater or wind shirt.  

So far, Operation Sock Hunt has uncovered the hidey hole of precisely one fugitive sock.  Still, I feel a certain sense of accomplishment.  And the search continues!

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