I recently cleaned out my sock drawer. Guys typically don't like to clean out such drawers and I am no exception. The reason for cleaning it was because I recently bought some new socks and discovered I had trouble stuffing them into the drawer. I believe the last time I did so was 25 years ago when we first bought the dresser.
It's interesting what you find when cleaning out a sock draw, it is akin to an archaeological dig. I discovered I had over 40 different socks, none of which matched. This got me wondering where their mates were. Perhaps they were consumed by the washing machine or dryer as part of some demonic sacrificial rite. 40+ socks though is a lot and I cannot imagine who would want them or what they would do with them as individual oddities. I always considered my socks unique and do not believe they could be confused for those worn by my children. So there either must be a sock heaven or sock thief loose in the house.
As I picked through the socks in the drawer I was reminded of the many different types and colors I wore over the last quarter century. The oldest ones were long and came way up my shin, almost to the knee. They may seem awkward today but at the time they were comfortable and effective for covering any exposed flesh between the bottom of your trousers and your shoes. I had others with various bands of elastic to hold them up. Some had lost all elasticity and were rather droopy which is probably why I neglected them. By today's standards, several socks looked rather strange and archaic. I suspect I would look like a spaz wearing them, and probably twenty years ago as well.
Most of the socks were either black, dark brown, or navy blue, but I also had some lighter colors which, in hindsight, probably made me look like a used car salesman. Fortunately, I didn't have a white belt or shoes to accompany them. I learned my lesson wearing light colored socks and have stayed with darker colors in recent times.
I felt a little guilty cleaning out the drawer. My first inclination was to say, "But what if we finally find the mates?" I also had a fleeting notion they would make good dust rags, but my wife wanted no part of them. Finally, I came to my senses and purged all of the orphans into the garbage can thereby leaving only my new socks in the drawer all neatly paired up. I felt a sense of satisfaction for finally cleaning out something that was well overdue. My satisfaction was short lived though; about two weeks after cleaning out the drawer I happened to notice a new single sock sitting alone without its mate. My guess is that I had upset the sock Gods who demanded another sacrifice, either that or my wife is deliberately trying to drive me insane. Either way, I give up. It will be more than 25 years before I try to clean out a sock drawer again. Maybe some things are best left undone.
Keep the Faith!
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Tim Bryce is a writer and the Managing Director of M. Bryce & Associates (MBA) of Palm Harbor, Florida and has over 30 years of experience in the management consulting field. He can be reached at email@example.com
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