Yes, I'm going to give myself props for belated cleverness on a very, very small scale.
As you may recall, I've had a collection of orphaned socks for many moons.
Yesterday, I noticed that Mr. Tangerine's sock drawer was uncommonly empty, waiting for clean socks to refill it. I was struck by an epiphany: I should take all the remaining socks out and see if there are any orphans that match up with those in the Basket of Lovelorn Socks.
I think I added one or two socks to the Basket, but I was able to reunite seven Basket inhabitants with their partners.
The black ones make sense—Mr. Tangerine probably wore two unmatched ones, and those two socks have lived in the Basket of Lovelorn Socks ever since. I don't know how one purple-and-green running sock found its way back into the drawer alone, though.
Isn't it sad that this is what passes for accomplishment in my life these days? This and changing the damn sheets.
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2 comments:
I threw away all of last years socks and put colored dots on the toes of all this years socks. Each male person in my home has a different colored dot on a mass of two dozen pairs of the same style of sock.
Matching socks...match yer own stinkin' socks!
We must put the socks at right place so that we make it easy to meet.
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