The Holy Season

'Tis the season to be holy. Or should I say ''holey''? Holey socks, that is!!

Every time I turn around, I seem to have blown another hole in yet another pair of socks.

Why is it that both socks don't wear out at the same time? I always end up with an odd sock out. I keep those spare socks and match them up as the next sock blows a hole and then I have a 'brand new' pair.

Then there all the intricacies of matching up the extra socks. Some have a logo, some don't. Some are shaped differently than others. I wouldn't want my socks riding down my legs (unbeknownst to anyone but me), at different rates. Then there are the dye lots. Omigosh!! Could they possibly invent one more shade of dark blue?

I was such a rebel on the weekend. I wore two socks that didn't match. They were close, but they were off by a shade or two. Then I took a few steps and whatever threads were holding one sock together enough to make it into the spare sock pile instead of the garbage, gave way. I had two, unmatching socks on. One of which had a hole in it. Back to the spare sock pile, I found yet another 'close, but no cigar' kind of match.

Triumphantly, I walked out of my room and carried on with the day. My little secret was not discovered by anyone else. Low and behold, by mid-day ... both of my mis-matched socks were holey. At that point in the day, it didn't make sense to go back to the sock drawer again. Less laundry for me, as I ceremoniously chucked my socks into the garbage at the end of a very holey day.

I just finished folding a load of laundry. And what to my wondering eyes should appear?? But two more holey socks - once again, leaving me with two mismatched black socks (who in the world would know but me, that one of those black socks has a logo and the other doesn't??).

I finally gave in and bought myself a brand new stock of black socks. Six pairs. Identical. No logos. No nothing. When those socks start to go, I should have evenly matched mates each and every time.

Now if only I could figure out what to do with all of the miscellaneous colors of blue that have amassed in the back of my sock drawer.

This holey season must come to an end (for now).