The unholey sock reunion

Socks make for a lousy Christmas gift. So if I’m going to buy the love of my life socks for Christmas, it’s a pretty safe bet there’s something special about them.

The ones I got her come 4 or 6 in a pack. They come in all different colors, with multi-colored stripes to top them off. These are some colorful socks, I tell you. They’re kind of silly looking, really. They’re supposed to be. The thing is, there is not a single matching pair in the pack. They’re ALL different. That’s sort of the point. They’re intended to be whimsical. You’re supposed to wear them unmatched; that’s the fun of it.

Being the generous sort, I ordered 2 packages for her, and when they arrived, the second package just happened to be the same, identical, set of socks as the first. “Whatever”, I thought, “They are what they are; she just has twice as many of them now.” I even wrapped them separately so she would get the point of what they are all about.

So what does she do? She matched them all up and wears them as matching pairs. So my fun, whimsical, gift is now just a bunch of striped socks.

That, alone, is shockingly interesting for a story about socks. But once you factor in the fact that I’m somehow programmed to find profundity in mundane – even stupid – things, my brain just couldn’t leave this alone.

Imagine for a moment that you’re a sock.

In your ordinary lifetime you can expect to suffer the hazards of potentiallly losing your brothers and sisters in the normal course of things. Someone could get a hole. You could fall back behind a drawer. You could get lost in a corner of the closet. And, of course, there’s dreaded clothes dryer. Few survive the clothes dryer. Your fate is practically predestined just by nature of being a sock. Surviving the normal life of a sock, for any length of time, without seeing your relationships torn asunder would, even under the most ordinary conditions, be a remarkable feat.

But then some A-hole comes along and thinks it would be cute and funny to ship you and your dear brothers and sisters all separately in separate packages.

So I implore you. Ask yourselves, what are the odds of a sock treated thusly, living out its days in the company of its siblings?

In a world where socks are almost destined to lose their mates, what a heartwarming reunion it must have been to witness these brothers and sisters, born for the very purpose of being parted – in fact earmarked from the beginning to be lonely – to instead, once again, find themselves reunited in a sock drawer, to live out their lives in defiance of their maker, and basking in the irony of it all.

If that isn’t a stirring story (and a most unusual example of personification) then I don’t know what is.


One Response to “The unholey sock reunion”

  1. Your take on the mundane is the bright spot in my day!

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