The Ongoing Mystery Of The Missing Sock

COLUMNIST FEARED APPLIANCES’ HUNGER FOR GARMENT WOULD GROW TO EPIDEMIC PROPORTION

I was a teenager when I first became aware of the “missing sock.” I held my sisters culpable; after all, they were responsible for the washing and drying of the family’s clothes. My mother quickly came to their defense by stating that socks occasionally disappeared, but the washer and dryer were responsible for that.

Getting married did not put an end to the missing socks. On the contrary, the washer and dryer intensified their hunger for socks.

I feared it would grow to epidemic proportions.

Now a widower, I began doing my own laundry. For two years I managed to deprive my appliances of socks.

Today, it happened to me. I missed a sock. All those horror stories came rushing back. I took a few deep breaths and told myself not to have a panic attack. There had to be an explanation for this. First, I took another look inside the dryer, no sock. Next, I fully expected it to be in the washer, not there either. Of course, I must have left it behind in the hamper. It was empty.

I realized, then, that I had been neglecting my other sock. It was warm and had a very nice smell of fabric softener and detergent. I feared how it would fare without its mate. I say mate because I never could tell the gender of socks. I was doing well to put my right sock on my right foot and my left sock on my left foot. I didn’t always get it right. Would the sock

I held in my hand grieve its partner? I had to find the other sock. I resumed my search. I checked the pockets and legs of my slacks I had already hung up. Still, no sock. I followed that by looking into the long sleeves of my shirts. This was getting frustrating. I decided to take a break.

While slowly drinking a glass of water, I began to have evil thoughts about my washer and dryer. Which one was the culprit? Were they in on this together, after all they spent every minute next to each other? Would I have to get rid of them? No, nobody would want them once I told the prospective new owner what bad habit they had just picked up. I likened it to giving a bad dog to a friend. Could a washer and dryer be rehabilitated? And, if so, how does one go about it?

I began to acknowledge that I would not be able to sleep this night. I would have to sleep with one eye open, watching out for the washer and dryer. I had to find that missing sock. I went into the laundry room determined not to leave it until I found that sock.

It was not behind the appliances. Ditto for the dryer vent. I tried to think like a sock. That is when I decided to run a yard stick under the washer. The gap between the floor and washer was so narrow that the yard stick could barely fit-nothing. Resigning myself to the fact that I just was not going to fi nd that sock, I half-heartedly ran the narrow, fl at yard stick under the dryer. What was that that the yard stick had pushed out? It was the missing sock! I checked for damage, gave it a good shaking to rid it of whatever dust it may have picked up, and hurried to join it with its delighted mate.

Oh, what had I done? I had convicted my washer and dryer of heinous crimes without a proper trial. I had to apologize to them, but how do you do that?

I know: Tomorrow I will wash and wax my beautiful, innocent appliances.

ROSS SANCHEZ IS A RETIRED TEACHER WHO LIVES IN ROGERS.

Opinion, Pages 12 on 01/05/2014

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