Previously on “One Came Back: The Saga of the Missing Sock” we learned that I became obsessed with a missing anklet. Two-by-two they entered the washing machine but only one came back.
Where could it have gone?
Weeks went by. I was resigned to never having a mate for the surviving white anklet. At best I would have a spare in case another one went missing. There was no worst.
THEN, as I was getting ready for bed one evening, changing my day clothes for my pajamas, I glanced at the floor. AND THERE, TUCKED INTO THE CROTCH OF THE BRIEFS I HAD JUST REMOVED, WAS THE MISSING SOCK!
Had it been there all this time? Who knew? I never felt it. I never saw it until that moment.
Incredulous, my wife said: “You mean to say you had that sock in your jockeys and never knew it? That beats all. Throw it in the wash. Who knows what hell it's been through.”
The End.
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