Friday, February 1, 2008

The Magic sock drawer

‘Wow, the magic sock drawer is working again.’ My husband says with glee as he does a happy dance after seeing socks in his drawer again.

Usually he has to fend for himself, along with the other kids as they sift through a large Rubbermaid container full of mis-matched socks. Oh, I occasionally fold the socks and throw them in drawers but it always seems like there are more socks in the container than there are mates. I knew I wanted to take on the sock gremlin this week so I made it a point to catch up on laundry. Something that never happens around here. But since I’ve been confined at home with the barking seals cough malady, I decided to tackle the laundry mountain. I searched every room for every piece of dirty laundry I could find and then I set about to getting them all through the laundry. There was a good couple days of marathon washing, and folding going on. My washer wasn’t too happy with me and decided to act possessed. I could often hear it banging around in the laundry room, sometimes it would get so mad that I could feel its anger vibrating the floor several rooms away. See what I have to put up with from it. The silly thing actually glares at me as I come into the laundry room.

It’s supposed to be facing the other wall like this.

But, somehow it moves its hefty frame and waddles completely out of place. I have to really throw my weight at it to walk it back into place. Anyway, I won’t go into my love/hate affair with this contraption here because I need to get back to those socks.

And I did it. For the first time in years I had every possible item of dirty clothing completely cleaned. Well, for a couple of hours they were clean. Then of course, the kids pulled off more dirty clothes when they had to get ready for bed. But honestly for a good couple of hours I was totally up on the completely clean laundry list. And with all clothes clean it was a perfect time to attack that dreaded pile of socks.


Want to know how debilitating and expensive clutter can be? I had no idea how many socks I had lost. Let me rephrase. I had no idea how many socks my kids had lost. They could be buried under seats in the car, molding in the grass out back, or even in a vent hole in the floor. Who knows? By the time I was done sorting, and I won't tell you how long it took because that would be too depressing, well, anyway here is the tale of our socks…

First my girls helped me divide them by color. This was actually harder than it looks. You try matching all those white socks. Or should I say various shades of gray socks.

Sorting into the initial piles was about all my girls helped me with. Then they decided to go off and tease each other to no end, since they couldn’t plug into anything. But that’s another story. So...


79 pair-less socks join the ever-increasing, pile of garbage out back that will soon be another dump truck run.

21 pairs retired for age and stains so bad that no amount of bleach on earth could cure them.

13 holy socks laid to rest

6 pairs of hardly worn cutesy too-small girly socks donated to the needy.

Approximately 112 pairs of socks (2 weeks worth per person and still way too many) get a reprieve and live to be worn another day.

Waste is disgusting. And I'm sure I'm going to be finding a lot more of it with the T.V. turned off. But hey, the good thing is my husband's magic sock drawer is working again.

5 comments:

Susanne said...

Your blogs always make me smile (and lately make me feel like a slacker for not getting control of the clutter around here). ;-)

fawndear said...

Don't feel too bad, I've had nearly 18 years of wedded C.H.A.O.S to perfect the title of slack, I mean clutterholic.

rkimedes said...

My mom has a theory. Her theory is that socks don't actually get lost in the dryer, it's that socks actually mate in the dryer, and that's where odd socks come from.

"Mate?" I asked her.

"Sure," she answered, "why else would one sock always be bigger than the other? How else would socks express sexual dimorphism?"

So maybe it's not waste. Maybe it's just fertile socks.

Trena Doll said...

I think it must be something to do with kids... or maybe husbands... because I can't remember the last time I lost a sock. Seriously, it's probably been 10 years. Just one of the little pleasures of being single. Lucky me and my perfectly matched socks!

Arrow said...

That's a lot of socks!! And the sister just older than me thought I had a lot.