I had a brief moment recently where I contemplated calculating the number of socks I have laundered in the last twenty years or so. Even though we’re something of a ‘flip flop family’, and not everyone in the family changes their socks every day (!), I’ve still washed more socks than I can work out.
But that led me to think about the amount of socks which have mysteriously disappeared from my life. I have at least four socks in my drawer which no longer have a partner – socks mate for life you know. I sometimes look balefully through the drawer contents, in the hope that I may find a missing piece of hosiery, before getting fed up and giving up.
There are a number of possible reasons why my socks may have disappeared. A ravenous washing machine, a vicious gust of wind, a kleptomaniac crow, an elaborate practical joke, or even a mix up involving a duvet cover, (It has been known). But the likelihood is that I’ll never know, and I’m ok with that. It’s quite normal to want to get answers to everything, but it’s not always possible. Sometimes we have to learn to live with mystery.
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