If you've read this blog for a long time, you know that I have a terrible problem with my socks. Specifically, that I am almost totally incapable of keeping a pair together. I must buy 25 pair a year. I have a drawer full of single socks - really, I have a designated area where I keep them and every so often I go through them to see if I can come up with match.

Sometimes, I'm just desperate and put on two that are a similar color. After all, most of them are blue, black or white. How hard can this be?

You'd be amazed......

So I'm always asking for socks as gifts - the wilder the better, because I'm more likely to notic them in the laundry basket and recall where I saw their mate......if, in fact, their mate has not shrugged off this mortal coil entirely. Recently, I used some of my Christmas money to buy a new pack of 9.

This morning, I took out a pair of black socks and sat down at my vanity table to put them on. I put the one on that was in my hand and looked around for the other one.

It was gone.

This has to be some sort of a record.

There was a lot of laundry on my bed. I searched through it carefully. I looked in the hamper. I looked under the dresser and vanity table. I found my "I love my senegal" pin, a headband, and a great deal of dog hair but no sock.

I gave up, put on a pair knee high pantyhose, and left. Normal people do NOT have these problems.