In Memory of Those Lost: Lost Sock Memorial Day
Today is Lost Sock Memorial Day, and we must pay tribute to those lost.
It’s happened to everyone, the disappearances have. After hours worth of hard laundry labor, sorting, removing, soaping, pressing buttons, folding, you notice it: you’ve lost a sock.
Disappeared it has into the nether, into that other dimension we on this plane call “non-existence,” or The Lost World, which barely has any dinosaurs in it, surprisingly.
The lost sock phenomena has been part of our zeitgeist for millenia (a millenia is just a word for like “a whole bunch of time”, right?), making its way into the comedy of hack comedians and the thought bubbles of Sunday funny paper. It’s a bizarre, globally-shared experience, a result of people trying to insert problems into their decadent machine-assisted lives.
It’s a question that will likely never be answered (of course it will, I’m being facetious), but a question often asked: when you put “where do l” into Google, it suggests “where do lost socks go.” When you put it “where do,” it suggests “where to babies come from” – another question we’ll never know the answer to.
Maybe the socks disappeared on purpose? They’re sick of being stepped on all day, mistreated, forcefully entered by smelly feet. And lets not even go into what guys do to their socks sometimes. All of that seems like perfectly reasonable cause for revolting, running away, and disappearing.
Maybe the government has a secret sock tax, taking socks from every one so they can redistribute socks to those less fortunate? Ugh, Obama.
Maybe they never actually disappeared, and our minds force their invisibility so as to add a degree of mystery to our otherwise mystery-less lives?
Maybe they’re sucked into some kind of vortex and are taken to the very beginning of the universe and restructured at an atomic level so that all matter in the universe is actually re-distributed sock atoms? Ugh, Obama.
Maybe house elves? Ugh, Hermione.
Maybe rogue HelloGiggles readers stole them all to make sock buns?
Who knows? No one. That’s the answer to that rhetorical question. So because we’ll never discover why the socks disappear, we should figure out how we can circumvent the problem.
Solution: only buy one kind of socks, there’s no such thing as having a mismatched pair if they’re all the same. No big deal if you lose one this way.
Solution: no socks! Live every day like you’re at the beach with a sock-free existence!
Solution: tie an iPhone to each of your socks; if one goes missing, use the ‘Where’s my Phone’ app.
Solution: treat your socks so well that they’d never dream of disappearing.
Solution: convince society that mismatched socks are actually super cool.
Solution: never wash your socks!
Solution: ignore it! It’s what I do with all problems, it works great.
Have you ever lost a sock that was dear to you? Tell me about it in the comments, if you’re persuasive enough maybe I’ll dive into your drier and find it myself like Die Hard but with socks instead of terrorists and also not the same at all.
