Stop breaking up.
Every laundry cycle, I watch you saunter in together, soaked in happiness, like a newlywed couple brimming in honeymoon sunshine.
And just like those gut-wrenching couples that complete each other’s sentences, you match each other in color, in length, and in texture.
But in agony, I watch, as only one of you returns.
“Where did your wife go?” — I wonder.
Did she meet another sock? Perhaps he had that touch of polyester that female socks find so irresistible.
Or perhaps, did Mr. Sock, that dastardly handsome bugger, find another side sock to cozy up to?
But, no matter the reason, here we are, yet again, with one less sock for my toes.
No.
No, I say!
In these dark times, if even socks cannot stay together, what hope is there for the rest of us all?
We must take a stand.
Socks, gather round, for it is time for y’all to watch a Disney movie.
Or hire a marriage counselor.
And if those don’t work, have a lil baby sock! Hell, if a baby sock doesn’t fix everything, nothing will.
I mean, just look at these things.
Adorbs.
Anyways, socks, all I’m trying to say is — there are options.
Let’s work it out.
Sincerely,
@fdgt
