Sort It Out

Is there anything in the world less fun than sorting socks?  Well sure there is, but for today’s blogging purpose, there isn’t?

When I was a little girl my sister and had to do the laundry and we would sit there forever trying to sort whose of the four girls was whose. I would just pretend to be sorting and let my sisters do it and then take the leftovers and put them loose into my drawers.

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Not my family

Then, I grew up and finagled to get my husband to do the laundry.  So still, no sorting socks.  We have a system.  Buy all the socks in the house exactly the same brand and type.  Then put a tiny basket between the washer and dryer and dump all the socks in it.  Then make the hypothetical kids go laundry basket diving every day.  Of course, they are welcome to sort socks if they dislike this method of laundry.  This does lead to a lot of missing mom and dad socks, but it is pretty cute to see my eight-year-old trying to put his shoes on with giant socks on.  They both wear the same size socks as me.

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Really, I think sock-sorting is a metaphor for the way I live my life. Reach your hand in and take what ya get.  Embrace them, don’t keep searching for the right match. I challenge you to have a socky adventure. Today, I am going introduce you to Ms. Socksy.  I tried to get her picture but she wouldn’t quit humping Jason’s neck.

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Lady or Not… Here I Come!


Sort It Out — 84 Comments

  1. My question has always been: Where do my socks GO? SInce I’m a teaching “professional”, I wear dress socks to work, and I have more singletons than pairs. The top drawer of my wardrobe is basically a sock orphanage.

    I’m not pointing fingers, but this problem has ceased altogether since my wife and I split up. Now if I could just find about a dozen people with one foot . . .

  2. The late lamented Miles Kington, English jazz musician and humorous writer, invented an organisation called the Sock Exchange (not the Stock Exchange) which existed to collect unpartnered socks and pair them up.

  3. I now buy socks with an L for the left one and an R for the right paw, guess what?
    I now have 10 left and 5 right, how does that happens? Have no fucking clue.
    I know is already the 3rd, but happy new year. It’s been crazy here, how am I supposed to catch up with the blogs if I have to catch up with work? I should quit.

  4. Bahahahaha! Mr. Wonderful has a problem with mismatched socks, so most of the Pajari Girls help him out by wearing deliberately non-matching pairs. We think of it as desensitization. He is such a good sport…

  5. Oh, how amusing to see the sock monkey humping Jason’s neck! Yes, socks are a pain in the neck. I wish I could have assigned the same color to the whole household while raising my three kids. I did utilize them to do that as a chore, with snacks as bribes.

  6. Great post! Reminds me that there was a time in my life, from 1985 to 1994 to be precise, that I wore fashionable suits and ties with colored shirts, and socks and shoes that matched the color combo I chose each day, and I spent a lot of time matching socks. Then one day all the physical and neural reactions from bicycle racing, latin dancing, playing flamenco guitar and getting slammed by retroactive taxes hit me all at once, I did a reality check and bagged the suits (kept one black suit jacket and the coolest ties for special occasions); then I went out and bought all new black pants, black shirts, black socks and black shoes, and have worn all black ever since. Over the past 19 years I haven’t had to think about matching colors and what goes together, because whatever I grab from the closet and drawers match, go well together, are in style, and I never have to match socks. However, missing socks is another problem alltogether — either the dryer eats them or the ghosts steal them — because, even though I start out with the same number of pants, shirts, underwear and pairs of socks, on those occasions that I forget to do the laundry, I will inevitably end up with a missing sock crises.

      • Ah, and well you may ask…a sock peg is a carefully designed plastic thingy (designed by a man) whereby the socks get pegged together when they are removed from feet and placed in dirty laundry hamper. Then the sock peg cleverly keeps the socks together throughout the entire washing and drying process. Me, being the superior laundress that I am, could manage to lose not only the one sock per pair but the sock peg as well. This is how I know there are either aliens in our midst or fairies at the bottom of the garden who eat socks and pegs but only in malicious combinations so as to mess with my head.

        • Oh yeah, you’re right. I know they talk about you when you’re not around too. Just yesterday my fairies told me your fairies phone them. Apparently the sock pegs through them for a loop, so they got the garden gnomes to help eat the pegs so the fairies would not starve.

          • Is that why my phone bill was so friggin’ high? F’ing phone fairies!! And have you ever tried scooping up the gnome poop so you can mow the lawn? Especially when they are shitting plastic pegs and socks. Do you think we could just get the fairies to Skype?

  7. Ugh. I hate sorting socks. But I’ve never thought of it as a metaphor for life. If I had, then maybe I would have liked the whole sorting process better.

    (Um … well, probably not.)

  8. My OCD kicks into high gear when it comes to socks. There will be no throwing them in the drawer willy-nilly, or matching them with ones less worn!! They will be sorted and folded!! lol

    By the way Jason, does Bill Cosby know you have his sweater?? ;)

  9. Now you have done the socks blog
    we will be eager to read the stockings
    version, I do hope that you have a
    generous supply of those Becca? ;)

    Happy New Year in 2013
    and stay wicked and naughty :)

    Andro xxx

  10. What? Oh man. There is just something magical I think about sorting socks. The opportunity to sit there going through the socks and that moment when you find the match it’s like finding it’s soul mate. Of course there are those one or two when your done that don’t have a matching sock and those you just throw in the trash like a used condom.

  11. My son has lived by this mantra most of his life and I’ve given him a hard time about it — I’ll have to show him your post so he can have something to throw up to me when he moves back in and I give him a hard time about it again.

Oh you know you want to give verbal ejaculation a try. Spit it out!