Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Missing Sock Comes Home

   We've all lost socks in our laundry. It's a fact most of us have learned to live with and a lot of us have fun speculating on where they might go. Did they go to another dimension? Did gnomes take them? Did the machines eat them? Are they in Narnia?
   Several months ago I lost a sock to the laundry gods, and I realize that's not such an interesting thing to write about, but would you believe me if I told you that my missing sock came home?
   In early August I was staying at a hotel in Comox, BC while I worked at the Filberg Festival. During my stay I visited my Mother-in-Law and her husband and took them up on their offer to use their laundry machines. That's when I figure my aforementioned sock went missing, only I wouldn't notice this until I returned to Victoria and unpacked. I didn't have time to sort and fold my clean laundry in Comox and simply shoved it all into my bag the night before I went home.
   Although it was only just a sock and not the end of the world, we decided to tell Megan's mother to keep her eyes open for it and I hung on to the spare sock just in case the mate turned up. It's a brand new sock that has only been worn once and looks nothing like her husband's socks. It was either at her house or I lost it at the hotel, though I'm sure I checked that room many times over to be sure I didn't leave anything. Traveller's OCD.
   Two months passed and when we visited again for the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday in October someone mentioned the missing sock. Megan's mom had seen it but misplaced it again in the shuffle as she was clearing out old clothing. No big deal. At least it's still in this dimension.
   Two more months have passed since then and out of the blue I got an envelope in the mail yesterday from Megan's mother addressed to me. I'm not going to lie, I had actually forgotten about the sock and at first I couldn't figure out what she'd send me. It was Megan that got it right away when she picked up the envelope. Sure enough, there was my sock wrapped in paper, still as gleaming white as the day I bought it, and pressed flat by the sorting machines at the postal station.
   I'm glad I kept the spare sock.
"Re-united... and it feels so good!"
The Wandering Oak

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