A Snail's Pace

Where do missing socks go? I don’t know how many times that I have gone to fold my laundry and ended up with a single leftover sock. What happened to the other half of the pair? People have theorized that modern washers and dryers rend them down and they become dryer lint. They become de facto sacrifices to the god of washing.

A more fanciful explanation holds that socks are actually the physical manifestation of an intelligent alien life form. They are able to re-energize themselves by siphoning off some of the bio-mechanical power that is expended through walking. Once sufficiently energized the pair will enter the laundry cycle, and somewhere between the washer and dryer, one of the pair will teleport back to the mothership to report. Its mate remains on earth to continue watching and of course be found after laundry. This theory, while really out there, does explain how a once missing sock can mysteriously reappear.

This morning, in our bedroom closet I discovered a colony of truant socks. This nest of missing socks were living at the back of the closet. They were all covered in closet lint. I suspect that this sock colony was actually a sock nest of cannibals. I belive that the so-called closet lint is really the remains of less fortunate socks, socks that thanks to this sock nest monster will never be seen again. Unfortunately, because of the coating of closet lint, I was compelled to drop these fiends into the laundry chute, repeating the cycle.

The regular reader might have noticed that this has been a slow news week here at RegenAxe. Otherwise would I really be going-on about socks, missing or otherwise? Maybe my life has slowed to a snail’s pace, or maybe I’m just suffering from writer’s block. Which ever one it might be, I’m sure that it will pass soon enough and I’ll return to more interesting and exciting blather.