Yes, today is Lost Sock Memorial Day. It's a plague we've all dealt with, may as well just acknowledge it, right.
Funny story: kids tend to be serious about rule following. Well, sometimes. Anyway, when College Boy was little, I bought him a 2 pack of socks that actually said "right" and "left" on them. Why? I have no idea. But true to form, one of each pair eventually were lost in the wash. Unfortunately, it was both "right" designated socks. And it took some doing to convince him that it was OK to wear both "left"s. Oy.
Without further ado (yes, that's an old timey saying), my poem, Ode to a Sock.
Who'd have thought,
you're a worthy foe.
How could you, dirty socks,
inflict so much sorrow?
Mocking me each laundry day,
with your disappearing act.
I know I always start with two,
then one you do subtract.
One by one you sneak away,
leaving mates behind.
Me to wear a red with blue.
Why are you so unkind?
Looking dignified while mismatched,
has become quite a feat.
I imagine you're still close to home,
laughing, what a treat.
Bet that there's some sock folklore,
tales of a hideaway.
A magical place where you all go,
to sing and dance and play.
I've hunted and I've searched for you,
"please come back" I say.
Torn the laundry room apart,
nothing . . . to my dismay.
How could you, dirty socks,
inflict so much sorrow?
Mocking me each laundry day,
with your disappearing act.
I know I always start with two,
then one you do subtract.
One by one you sneak away,
leaving mates behind.
Me to wear a red with blue.
Why are you so unkind?
Looking dignified while mismatched,
has become quite a feat.
I imagine you're still close to home,
laughing, what a treat.
Bet that there's some sock folklore,
tales of a hideaway.
A magical place where you all go,
to sing and dance and play.
I've hunted and I've searched for you,
"please come back" I say.
Torn the laundry room apart,
nothing . . . to my dismay.
Sock nemesis, you win, I lose,
Mr. Red, Mrs. Blue, Ms. Teal.
I will not try to bring you home,
I will not try to bring you home,
I'm here to make a deal.
I'll keep your secret, missing socks,
of this I pledge and swear.
May need a hiding place myself.
So tell me, where's your lair?
NOTE: I decided not to try to tie a recipe into the dirty laundry theme today, for rather obvious reasons, instead giving it a gratuitous mention here at the end of my post:
I'll keep your secret, missing socks,
of this I pledge and swear.
May need a hiding place myself.
So tell me, where's your lair?
NOTE: I decided not to try to tie a recipe into the dirty laundry theme today, for rather obvious reasons, instead giving it a gratuitous mention here at the end of my post:
Lemon Raspberry Punch
Before you go, click on these links to more poetry from some of my friends:
Dawn of Cognitive Script shares Ode to My Sock.
Diane of On the Border shares The Monthly SWS.
Dawn of Cognitive Script shares Ode to My Sock.
Diane of On the Border shares The Monthly SWS.
Lemon Raspberry Punch
©www.BakingInATornado.com
Ingredients (per drink):
about 4 fresh raspberries2 small scoops rainbow sherbet
4 oz raspberry lemonade
1 oz lemon liqueur
3 oz raspberry liqueur
2 oz ginger ale
Directions:
*Place 4 raspberries in the bottom of a large glass. Add 2 small scoops of sherbet.
*Mix together the raspberry lemonade, lemon liqueur and raspberry liqueur. Slowly add the ginger ale. Pour into the prepared glass.
