Sock it to me!

Today I decided to tackle the huge bag of odd socks that has been sitting on the floor of my laundry room – watching me ignore it – for the past few weeks. No real reason, just a rare spurt of domestic activity reared its head (the bag was ready to burst) and I finally got stuck in. As soon as I started I realised some chucking out would need to be done

Now, anyone who’s read Spring cleaning but not really will know that I do not possess the right skill set to do this job well. I spend far too long on it, overthink the whole process and end up with more or less the same pile of stuff when done as what was there in the first place. But this time would be different, I avowed. No mercy would be shown!

The thing is, most of these socks are perfectly good socks. They’ve done their bit, kept our feet warm and toasty for months on end; survived a whirlwind tumble in a washing machine and coped with hours of being spun in circles in a huge, hot dryer. Only to end up waiting in a bag because somehow they’ve lost their partner. Or their partner has lost them. Or ‘someone’ (daughter? son? husband?) didn’t keep them together when gathering the laundry.

How fair is that? So here I sit, surrounded by little piles of socks of all sorts and shades, deciding which ones are up for the chop or not. It’s a merciless world.

There’s a Christmas sock, bought God-knows-how-long-ago, for my daughter. Can’t throw that out, she still loves those – what if we find the other one back? (not to mention the tiny reindeers that won’t stop twinkling up at me). A pink fluffy one, perfect for snuggling in on the sofa in the evenings – surely the other will show up soon? 19 – yes, 19 – single black socks. None of which match each other. No doubt part of my husband’s campaign to buy one style sock that is recognisable as his and won’t end up in our son’s room. Hah! So much for that! Better keep all of them, he probably has the other 19 somewhere upstairs…

Ah, here’s one that can go out – small, black with stripes. A bit tatty. Be gone, sock! And another, a faded, pink and white spotted little item that’s completely lost its shape. Out you go, no guilt. None. A soft, beige and pink little item, with dog ears and a felt ‘tongue’ sticking out at the toe. Hmm. Can I really be that mean?

A Bart Simpson sock! Geez, that’s an oldie! Seems kinda mean to throw it in the bin. Eight small, white ankle socks, good for wearing to the gym. If you’re so inclined.

Slowly, painstakingly, I find a few matching pairs and build a little tower with them. Gives a certain sense of satisfaction. Then I sort what’s left into: bin items/look upstairs for a match/put back into the bag (for now). It’s enough.

washing machine
I knew there was a reindeer one somewhere in here!

Job well done. Ish.

Advertisements

30 thoughts on “Sock it to me!

  1. I am merciless when dealing with socks. I keep the unmatched ones in a bundle in my sock drawer and after a few months if they haven’t been matched up, I will gleefully toss them in the wastebasket. But a really good unmatched sock can still be used. They are great to put over your hands for a perfect duster for breakable items and so I keep a few of those unmatched socks with my cleaning items. Sometimes the ones I use for dusting do find their missing partner but usually not. That way my sock drawer stays nice and organized, I have a few great dusting socks and I don’t get all freaked out by piles of unmatched socks. But the biggest mystery is where in heck do all of those unmatched socks in the world go??? Is there a little island of unmatched socks somewhere that the socks revolt and go to visit? How can so many socks from all over just disappear? Hmmmm!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. By the way, when or if you get a chance, could you please read my “Downton Abbey Addiction” post and let me know if my feelings about the show ending mirrors yours and others you may know who also loved that show? Just wondering if I sounded like an idiot lol! Thanks sweetie!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. The missing socks that get eaten up by the washing machine, or end up floating about in the Asteroid Belt, cause us all so much hassle. And pairing them up can give a girl ulcers. Best to do the job sitting next to a box of chocs or bottle of wine. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ahhhg… The missing sock….So true! Where do they go? That’s what I would like to know! And with my work socks all being thin, black, but slightly different lengths and styles… Very annoying. I think I have found a solution. The other day, when I was out shopping for something, I saw nice black socks for sale. They were a good length, just perfect for work. I bought 3 bags (for a total of 15 pairs). Now, even if one goes missing, I can still easily find a match. I might even buy more if I see the same style, so that I don’t have to search through single socks for at least a year! Fun post! I will be following. (And thanks for the visit to my blog)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, very good plan! I know that is what my hubby was trying to achieve, but because we only bought maybe two or three pairs each time it remains difficult to match. 🙂 Ah well. Thanks for the follow, I liked your posts also.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I recognize the situation you describe very well. I have a drawerful of odd socks, most of which are long and dark to distinguish them from the short, lighter ones favored by my sons. I even recognize the sense of satisfaction on those rare occasions when, like some old wizened old matchmaker, I manage to find a pair of perfect solemates.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, yes that is it exactly! Mind you, after my ‘sorting fit’ I then left the bag of items under my coffee table for three days. It’s now moved to the hall. I guess I will get there in the end… 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Your post cracked me up. The same thing happens when hubby does the laundry in order to help me out. The result? The odd socks looking for their “sole” mate (horrible pun, I admit it haha). I think once the socks go into the machine, there’s another door inside it just like Narnia, a parallel universe or something like that…where do they all go?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks a lot, delighted to hear that! I know, isn’t it weird?? A separate universe of lonely socks, lost behind the tumble dryer, maybe we can write a film script! 🙂 Love the pun by the way, haha.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. this is just so true! I have just been trying to match socks just taken out of washing machine, and there’s always a couple of odd ones. Well done on attempting to sort out your sock drawer, I only ever manage to get halfway before giving up! X

    Liked by 1 person

    1. haha, thanks Sally! Well now I feel obliged to admit that the sorted socks are still ‘in the bag’… I still haven’t brought to the right rooms, haha! Next step! it’s a process. 🙂

      Like

  7. I am sure there is a small, fluffy sock eating monster somewhere hiding behind my dryer. It is probably blue with red stripes and the son or daughter of the huge one living in my mum’s cellar. When we are on holidays at my mum’s, the sock-disappearance rates shoots up! I guess the baby sock monster came home with us after one of the holidays. It probably hid in one of the bags. Or my youngest one thought is was cute and gave it a lift between his cuddly toys.
    – Oh, and it has a sibling: the sock biting monster. It is more of a gourmet and just bites holes in the socks of my oldest one. It prefers freshly bought ones….

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Haha, indeed! Well he has many cousins living behind all dryers if you ask me, in wonderful, bright colours of the rainbow! And they just laugh quietly as we search for what they have gobbled down! Thx for the visit and comment! 🙂

      Like

  8. A for effort! I couldn’t believe this. Sounds exactly like my odd ones, except they’re in two little torn handle-less shopping bags somewhere (no laundry room), and for good measure many slyly made their way into the sock drawer in my fits of exasperation 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s