You may or may not remember the post I wrote a while back about my sock dilemma. We have a washer/dryer in our apartment, and every single week we lose an average of seven socks. We are left with a pile of unmatched socks at the end of each week, and by month’s end I normally go out and purchase another twenty to thirty pairs of socks so that our feet remain clean and warm.
My husband did not understand how it was possible for us to be losing so many socks. It was making him crazy. What did he think I was doing with them, I would ask him? Eating them? Throwing them away? “They must be getting sucked up by our washer or dryer” I have told him repeatedly, but he has not bought into this explanation. (Also, just think of how many “pairs” of socks are getting sucked up additionally, so the twenty or thirty socks that we are losing each month could actually be forty or more if you really think about it).
This morning I went into my laundry room and saw fifteen lonely socks sitting on top of my dryer. I leave them there for a week or two, hoping that with the next load some of the mates will reappear. They never do.
I went to my doorman.
“My socks are disappearing at an alarming rate,” I told him. He started to laugh, loudly. “I’m not kidding,” I continued. “I was wondering if this is happening to other people in the building.” He called the Super, and I explained my problem to him, fully expecting that he would tell me that I am crazy (aligning with my husband, as men so often do), and that I was the only person in the building who has ever mentioned this to him.
“Oh,” he answered, “that happens to everybody.” Relief and sadness enveloped me. Relief that I wasn’t alone in my sock losses, but sad because so many of us are being affected. “They get sucked into the pipes in the washers,” he went on. “The only way to prevent this is to put all of your socks on the very bottom of the machine.” (Not really sure how that works, since the machine spins around and around, but I am not a Superintendent, or a washer/dryer expert by any stretch of the imagination.
I immediately called my husband. Mystery of the Missing Socks solved, at least somewhat. “We should buy one of those lingerie bags,” he suggested.
Brilliant, right! Why didn’t I ever think of that.