And the Sock Ran Away With . . .

I don't know about your house, but in mine, my socks have commitment issues. Sure, they stick together for a while - but eventually one seems to run off in the night. Or day. Heck, I have no idea when they leave. Perhaps they get in tight with the washing machine. Or the dryer makes them so hot they just melt from desire. Maybe their mate gets a little thread bare or the toe gets a little hole and they just can't take it anymore. Where is the 'til death do us part? In sickness and health? If I can pack on a few pounds, get gray hair, and still be loved by my mate, why can't they? It seems to me that my socks are a bit fickle when it comes to love.

And when the mate disappears, heck - they start to pair off with any old other sock that might just happen to be lying around! They're open minded like that. It doesn't matter if they are the same colour - or even texture for that matter - they form a temporary bond that is baffling to all those who happen to see it. This was particularly true when our older daughter was still living with us. Although in her case, it would seem that most of her socks were terrified of being worn. As a result, they hunkered down in that  black hole known as 'under the bed', protected from the roving bands of leftover food and hot sweaty feet by the dust bunny army.

But if you think that the socks are the worst for running off on their mates, you'd best think again. Mitten season is upon us, and I've already had three take off in search of the land of the free. At first, I thought it was only the cheap mitts from the Dollar Store that had no morals. Think again. Those high priced floozies from WalMart are just as bad. You can tie those buggars up with a string and they still disappear. They're freaking David Copperfield. In the spring I'm sure I'll find one that made it halfway down the hill before giving up and becoming the 'forever home' for a mouse or some such thing. Well, forever until the cat gets it or the mitten gets run over by the lawn mower. It's the circle of life my friends.

The thing with mittens though is this. There is a conspiracy. Have you ever noticed that it's always only one side that bolts? If I were to look through all my single mittens, I would be hard pressed to find one that would fit on the left hand. Where the eff do they go?!? At least with Magic Gloves it doesn't matter. Too bad my kids can't figure out how to get their fingers inside ...

The only sanity saver in all of this? I know it doesn't just happen at MY house. It happens at yours too ... right?



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