Many of Somara’s female friends are jealous about one thing in our marriage…I do my own…unlike many other husbands. I think men who wash their own clothes have been a steadily growing population but I’m puzzled whenever I hear my female friends mention how their spouses don’t contribute in this department.
What’s this have to do with Henry David Thoreau? Well, whenever I wash my socks, I end up procrastinating on putting them away. Over the years I’ve acquired different brands and/or lengths as previous pairs get orphaned (solo socks eaten by the dryer monster) or worn out. So this means the dreadful process of matching them up.
I decided to take the author’s advice last Sunday…simplify, simplify, simplify. I washed all the socks I owned, paired them up the best I could and donated them to Goodwill. Then I bought 30 new pairs in one swoop (three packs of 10) which were all the same size, style and color; white of course, only clueless Europeans, annoying Hipsters and my dad wear dark socks with shorts! Why it took me about 25 years to finally do this is beyond me.
The bigger thrill for me was finding a brand still made in the States. I was willing to compromise with Canada, the Caribbean or Latin America if necessary.
I wish my wife did my socks…alas, she does not. I do.