The Missing Socks

What would anyone say if I told them that in a week’s time, not one but four pairs of my hubby’s socks have gone missing? Why I’m stressing on “a week”, is because for the past two months he was working from home, and he has resumed office since a week now, and hence the need for socks!

Well I know, a pair of socks is not something costly to waste anyone’s precious time pondering on it. However, here I’m talking about four pairs! And in my case it’s importance is equal, if not more than my favourite pair of shoes or dress.  You see, my hubby has this strange fascination of matching his socks with the trouser he wears, and he’s quite finicky about it. So the day he wears blue trousers, he would go for blue socks, and likewise. We have had numerous arguments on this topic, and seriously I have failed to understand why would someone take so much care to match the trouser with the socks instead of the shirt. I mean who on earth would even bother to peep inside our shoes to find out which colour socks we are wearing! However, this logic has gone completely tangent to his brain, everytime this topic came up in past. Over the years I have realised that to maintain the sanctity of marriage and one’s sanity, it’s always better to ignore some minor defects in the spouse.

Now coming back to the present situation, exactly four pairs of socks have gone missing and the husband has gone completely berserk since the time he discovered this, which is yesterday. Now let me tell you, his wardrobe has every coloured men’s socks available in the market, sans any design. And the number varies according to its importance, that is, he has more of black, blue, and grey than brown, cream and white.

Yesterday before leaving for office, he put forth this important conclusion that the darker shades of socks are missing, and he’s left with only lighter shades. I racked my brain for a minute and replied that either they are in the laundry basket or they are yet to dry. You see, it’s raining cats and dogs in Mumbai, and clothes don’t dry that easily here. Anyway, I forgot all about it until today morning when he was frantically searching for a blue pair of socks to match his blue trousers. And after failing to find a matching one, he grumpily wore the cream one and left for office. This sent a red signal to my brain, and I knew I had to do something about it, before the sun rises tomorrow. First I checked his wardrobe, and for sure only light coloured socks were left. Next I checked the half dried clothes, where only three pairs of socks in dark shades were there. And the laundry basket had only the last two days’s clothes, so where did the rest go?

Had it been a few years earlier, I could have easily concluded that they must have got misplaced in my father-in-law’s wardrobe. Those days, when my father-in-law was still working, both my mother-in-law and I would unabashedly mix up the socks and the handkerchiefs of the two men in our family, much to their chagrin. However my father-in-law is a retired person now, and doesn’t wear socks anymore, so the chances of my hubby’s socks landing there is unlikely. And the third male in the family, that is my son, is still too small to enter the league of missing clothing.

Now I was left with the only option of  imagining that the socks must have gotten bored staying at home for two months, and have grown wings and ventured out of the home without our knowledge, and much before his office started. As much as it sounded funny the situation wasn’t really funny. Though I’m saved for a couple of days with the socks drying outside, the inevitable question still remains, where are the rest?

I didn’t have the entire day to ponder on this, and had to take care of the daily chores. I decided to search for them again later in the afternoon. I finished my work and got ready for my daily noon walk. After a hiatus of almost two months,  I have resumed walking precisely at the same time my husband joined the office. I got ready, wore my fitness band and mask, took the earphones, phone, and sanitiser, and opened my wardrobe to take out my socks. I put my hands inside through the mess of undergarments. Actually I have been contemplating on arranging my wardrobe for sometime now, and specially the undergarments drawer that also contains my socks and handkerchiefs. I got hold of a pair of socks and pulled it out. I stared at the colour for sometime! It was black and I don’t have black socks. Then I pulled out another one, and it was dark blue, something which again I didn’t possess.  I couldn’t understand what was happening. In frustration I dumped the entire content of the drawer on the bed. I forgot all about walking and stared at the heap in astonishment. It  looked like my socks must have mated in the confinement of the drawer and given birth to their progeny, that didn’t even resemble them. Because now I had a total of eight socks, three in  attractive girly shades, and five more in boring blacks, greys and blues! It took me another minute to realise that those were my husband’s socks, that must have secretly entered my drawer to have some romantic moments with their counterparts.

Without wasting a minute, I texted my husband stating “Mystery of your missing socks solved.  Found your four pairs (black, grey and blue) in my drawer, and one extra too!”

Bang came his reply,  “There is nothing surprising about it!”.

Yes I am extremely forgetful, and I mix things up very conveniently, without even realising and then search for the same.

However, this is the first time that I have mixed up his clothes with mine, and I really dread the day when my son finally grows up!

Published by Antara

A writer by passion and a blogger by choice, I love to play with words.

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