Thursday, August 22, 2013

Are Those My Socks?

We just have one set of socks at our house.  There are 40-60 of them.  All. The. Same.

No matching.  No strays.  No kidding.

Daylight savings started as a joke by Benjamin Franklin and when my husband outlined this idea 15 years ago I laughed at it too.  But he wasn't joking.  He's an engineer.  It's hard to tell when he's joking.  

I finally bought-in when my boys started swiping my clean socks.  They didn't want to match their own socks and I already had uni-set socks.  The pink HANES embroidered on the toes didn't bother them a bit.  That was the end of ...
individualization of socks.  Now I look for short socks without gender-coded words on them.

If there are socks left at the gym, I never know.  Socks at their friends' houses?  I never know.  If there is one that doesn't match, it's not ours.

It is the mono-cropping of socks.  Low maintenance.  My relatives have done less eccentric things than this and I made fun of them. 

The socks are getting worn out and it's time to buy another batch.  It will be an up-front cash outlay, but an investment that pays dividends in time.  I have freed up half an hour a week.  I probably didn't need the accounting degree if my job is to match socks.  100% sure the housewives in my hood have made fun of me for things less unusual than uni-gender socks.  Right before they unfriended me.

They are still spending their time matching socks.  Now who's laughing?

Wait, did you have a gardening question?

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