Have you ever wondered why when you put a pair of socks in the washing basket only one sock returns? Do they have a disagreement about the brand of washing powder in the washing machine and become divorced? Perhaps one flattens itself against the side of the dryer to remain undiscovered, before hopping away unnoticed once my back is turned?
I used to buy socks in many colours and designs, but I've made a decision to purchase only black socks. This enables me to form new couplings after the separation of others. It does mean that sometimes I wear one sock which climbs half way up my calf, while the other barely covers my ankle, but at least they are both the same colour.
At Christmas time I always received the ubiquitous four-pack of black socks, not that I am complaining you understand, as I do need these annual replacements to subsidise my ever dwindling stock, but although black they had a patterned band around the top. One pair had a yellow band while another had a blue band. One pair had a red band and the other a green. Needless to say I have only two pairs of these socks left, one with a red band on one leg and a yellow band on the other, and a second pair with a blue band on one leg and a green ban on the other.
Have you ever noticed that old socks never go missing? That one with the darned heal, and the other one with the toe sown up where a toenail made a hole, remnants of what was once a thriving community of black socks. This elderly couple have chosen to stay together forever and a day, maybe because more attractive offers fail to come along once old and decrepit, while all of the young and vibrant socks split up at the earliest opportunity, sometimes in their very first wash.
If anyone has had similar experiences please contact me. The mystery of the missing socks is something we must urgently get to the bottom of.