Confessions of a Sock Thief
August 24th, 2008 
houndsgood Posted in around the house |
They are small, they remind someone like us, and they smell like us.
No, it is not a vial of our favorite perfume.
It’s a sock.
Jerry Seinfeld’s classic (or tired depending on your view “missing sock” routine doesn’t apply to my family. All the missing socks do not disappear in the laundry. They disappear in the sorting process, pre-wash. The other alternative is disappearance between the folding process and the putting away process. Why do we know this? Just a few years ago, we discovered our youngest dog’s secret stash. Apparently, he is a sock thief, and there was a menagerie of missing socks under the bed, in between the leaf of the diningroom table and the sweaterbox. The curator of this collection was mightily disappointed that his months of accumulation was seized, but he happily traded this for some doggie ice cream and a rope toy and all was right with the world. Savvy collectors know that priceless objects are a fair trade for another.
By this time, I have mismatched socks still because they were all washed with different colors at different times. This was not intentional. Most of them look so similar you think you are washing a pair until you notice the subtle weave nuances.
Equally as sock obsessed as my pup, I have been looking at Hue Socks online. There are some cute stripes and argyles that have no way of being mistaken for a match of anything but their mate. Maybe I’ll have to find somewhere else to put them so my little kleptopup doesn’t steal them!
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