The Great Sock Conspiracy

Seriously?? Seriously.

This is my pile of mismatched kid socks. Yep, just the kids- you should see the pile for me and Paul! C'mon, I could clothe my children for a year with the fabric from the socks that have no mate. What's the deal? I have searched the laundry room, the boys' room, our room... under, on, and in everything. Where do they go??

Have you noticed an inordinate amount of italics so far in this post? That is my frustration expressing itself the best way it knows how. It's really frustrating! I just know the socks have all gathered in some dusty corner of the basement solely to spite me. They're laughing at me!

Well, ha ha, socks! Joke's on you. I'll just go to Target and buy more socks, then where will you be? Still in a dusty corner of the basement... forever. Take THAT. The biggest problem is that I have an aversion to throwing away mismatched socks. I'm just sure the match will show up one day in my clean laundry basket and the two shall be forever joined (until one gets lost again). So I keep them- in a bag in Max's drawer, on top of my dresser, or I continually throw them in the dirty laundry, hoping that "this one's the load that will solve my problems!"

Someone, please talk some sense into me. They're gone. They are not coming back. Get a grip and move on... and clean off your dresser! But the thrill of the occasional match keeps me from cleaning house. The thrill of the match, and the fear that as soon as I throw the socks away, the missing matches will come out of hiding all at once and declare victory! I will not have it. I will not yield! They may have won the battle, but they WILL NOT WIN THE WAR!