There’s a unique feeling in putting on a new pair of socks. The sharpness of the look. The sensation of the snug fit. A fine way to start the day.
But sometimes, if not eventually, the pair for no good reason decides to be singular in nature.
Perturbed, you engage in a rescue mission. Interrogating the usual suspects, the washer, the dryer, the staticky sweater — all to no avail.
For the moment denied the satisfaction of reunion, you carefully consign the loner to the lost and found section of your favoured sock storage.
It’s not the money; it’s the principle of “I just got these damn things”.
It has to be here. You weren’t careless; you looked for it right away. The remaining sock is perfectly fine and seemingly optimistic to a return of balance.
So, it stays. Occasionally to be remembered when you come across it or to be recalled as the perfect compliment to specific attire.
Most of us have experienced the moment where you finally toss the remainder and the lost one returns as though nothing happened. It only has to happen once and this phenomenon becomes an unassailable law of cause and effect in our well reasoned mind.
I say, cast it out. Refuse to be held hostage by the one sock burden.
And if the derelict sock decides to later grace you with its presence. Enjoy the ruthlessness of showing that faithless wretch the garbage bin, too.
Life was not meant to pine for the return of gallivanting hosiery.
Douglas Miller lives in Greater Sudbury. A rotating stable of community members share their thoughts on anything and everything, the only criteria being that it be thought-provoking. Got something on your mind to share with readers in Greater Sudbury? Climb aboard our Soapbox and have your say. Send material or pitches to [email protected].