Sock It To Me Sweetly

22: socks officially missing right now

15: weeks since our cross country move

10: seconds it will take to toss the whole pile

66: dollars required to buy replacements (avg 3$/pair?)

1,000: hours I will spend wondering where the fargo they went

The singles scene.

Moving was a time of deep cleansing and purging. I am 84% confident we only moved socks in pairs, so essentially we hit a reset button in August. Barring an insatiably hungry dryer with a penchant for socks only worn on the left foot, how is it possible our family is losing an average of 1.5 socks per week?

This stash of loners has been sitting ominously in our room for days. At first the hope was getting through a complete round of laundry would sift out their missing mates, but that ship sailed (twice) and the pile is still staring me down.

The obvious areas have been scoured and I briefly considered Stanley since he has the highly suspect combination of mischievousness and a love of housekeeping:

No sign of a 22 sock blockage…

Clearly we all have enough socks to go the 2+ weeks these lone rangers have been taunting me, so what am I waiting for?

As I churned on it a bit, I realized I haven’t called off the search yet for three reasons:
1. I’m cheap
2. I’m waiting for the RUSH I will feel when I find them
3. I’m troubled by unexplained phenomenons

In response to Reason #1, I did some research and found an entire world of suggestions:
For the crafty: WTF Is a Mommy To Do With All These Single Socks
For the resourceful: 40 Things to Do With Your Old Socks
For the entrepreneurial minded: How Old Socks Led One Woman to a Million Dollar Business

While I like to think I’m a little of all three, the reality is none of these are going to happen any time soon. Perhaps I can stash the socks for dusting but most likely I will forget, dust with a kitchen towel, and a year from now the socks will still be sitting there. Funny thing is, I will probably think I found the “missing” socks and get the rush referenced in Reason #2.

Speaking of…Reason #2 — rush smush. I’ll grab some scratch lottery tickets at 7/11 to get a rush. In college I won $100 on a single ticket bought while filling up my well-loved Mazda affectionately known as the Sharkcruiser. The rush of that day made me forever a scratch ticket fan.

It’s Reason #3 that’s the deal breaker. My curious obsessive nature just can’t let go of the “where the fargo did they go” part. Like picking my dry cuticles and drinking too much coffee, I realize I habitually obsess over unexplained situations. I like answers and closure and resolution. And if I can’t get them, I (often subconsciously) hit replay on the details until I’ve clogged up my mind and driven myself nuts.

The soulful Danielle LaPorte recently wrote about the practice of leaving open space in our psyche, allowing room for the things we want, the things that matter, to enter. Read the complete nugget of poetic wisdom here. (*Thanks for sharing P!)

So back to the friggin’ socks…they’re outta here. Like the cookies out the Sharkcruiser window following a particularly colorful college night, I’m TOSSING them. It may be a small step, but that’s what big growth is made of, right?

The good news is that summer will be here before we know it and we can all wear flip flops.

Have you checked your dresser lately? What socks do you need to toss?