Where are all the socks?

Yesterday, after my cleaning lady left, I was changing clothes from my skirt to a pair of cozy sweatpants. Obviously, if I was switching into sweatpants, I was going to need socks. When I got to my sock and underwear drawer, I found lots of underwear -- because my cleaning lady puts them there after the washing and folding is completed -- but there were no socks.

My cleaning lady wouldn't even attempt to put all the socks back in their respective owners' drawers because I don't think she would have the first clue as to where to start. Instead, all the re-paired, clean socks are placed in one laundry basket, and it is up to the respective sock owners to find their own socks.

The problem was that none of my socks were in the basket. I just bought three new pairs of sports socks that are distinctively different from any of the other socks in our family, but I still couldn't find a bloody pair of socks. Where do all the socks go?

According to my off-hand calculations, I have probably bought about 100 pairs of socks for members of this family during the past year. Yet, every morning I hear the same traumatized call: "Where are my socks?"

My husband, in a fit of frustration, went out and bought himself all new socks that had a little logo on them. He then proceeded to make everyone come and look at his new socks so that if, per chance, they ended up in someone else's sock drawer, they would be immediately returned to their rightful owner -- him. The first time he tried this approach it failed completely and within about two weeks he had no socks again.

Then, he went to Canada on business and bought himself what he considered to be totally unique sports socks (is there such a thing? I doubt it.) with a logo that absolutely no one is our family could possibly replicate without him. This time, things seem to be going better because I haven't heard a word from him about his missing socks in several weeks, maybe even months.

My daughter Yael's socks are easy to find. They are the smallest socks in the house and frankly, no one but Yael would be caught dead in such an array of colour on their feet. The rest of us are too cool -- or perhaps not very expressive.

Normally I would say that my socks are beyond thievery as well, but Zeve in particular, seems to like my socks, so if he stumbles across a pair he opts to keep them rather than return them. When I finally notice that he is wearing my socks, they are barely recognizable because after a few days on Zeve's feet no one in their right mind would take them back. Hence, Zeve has a nice collection of Calvin Klein tennis socks.

The other thing is that we have a gigantic heap of single socks. Where are their mates? I was actually thinking earlier today that I should put all the heaps of single socks in one place and force the kids to search for their mates. I bet we have fewer singles than we think.

In the meantime, I am on a daily countdown to Spring. Soon as it arrives, which should be soon, I will officially be past sock wearing until well into December of 2009. I just have to hang on a few more weeks, scraping together whatever clean and decent socks I can find. Preferably socks that are mine.