THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, March 19, 1995 TAG: 9503160044
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MARY FLACHSENHAAR, SPECIAL TO REAL LIFE
LENGTH: Short : 50 lines
SOCK HOP.
While walking the beagle the other day, I passed a sock lying in the street.
I knew it was one of ours.
It had to be.
Forty-six socks are missing from our house. Yes, the most recent count of socks in the basket reserved for ``singles only'' was 46.
I know because about once a week I carefully place them all on the dining room table and invite my three kids to play the match game with me.
But there are never any matches. The color, the ribbing, the toe - everything might appear to be identical on two socks, but placed side by side one is 3 inches taller than the other.
If the length is right, something else is wrong.
How does this happen?
Erma Bombeck once attempted an explanation. It had something to do with a god of socks that demanded sacrificial offerings from every dryer in the land. She made me laugh but didn't solve the problem.
My friend Beth tried to solve the problem. A mother of four, poor Beth spends more time trying to match up single socks than I do.
So she invented a number system. Proudly, she marked each toe of a sock and its mate with its owner's first initial and a matching number. Children were instructed to wear socks marked only with their initial and with numbers that were identical. ``K16'' on a toe meant that the sock belonged to Katie and should be worn with the only other sock in the household marked ``K16.''
All of this took a lot of time on Beth's part and a lot of alertness on the part of her children first thing in the morning. It lent a certain prison atmosphere to the laundry room.
And it only worked for about a week.
The sock god must have gotten very mad, because Beth's numbered socks began showing up in my dryer, which is a quarter-mile away from her dryer.
All of this leads to two feeble thoughts, still no solutions:
It's time for someone to invent a better sock, maybe one supplied with a sound and directional system that can lead you to its mate.
It's time to rejoice that the weather will soon be right for bare feet and sandals, no socks necessary.
Thank you, god of socks, for the break. by CNB