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Socks

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What is it with socks? I’ve always complained in the past that I never have enough socks, and these (not so) subtle hints result in sock replenishments every now and then. So tonight I decided to turn my sock drawer out (yes, it’s been a slow day…). And i’m shocked. 74 socks. An ENORMOUS amount. But here’s the problem: only 24 of them match. 12 pairs. That’s it. Where do the other socks go? Is there a sock fairy? Do they all end up, washed out and craggy, in a small retirement home for socks in Wiltshire? I’ve taken to wearing odd socks now, mainly because early mornings aren’t the best sock-searching times, but mostly to fill in those awkward pauses in conversation. “So, Queen Mother’s died then. “Yes.” (awkward pause) “But hey, look at my socks!”