Have you ever heard the saying, "One french fry short of a Happy Meal"?
It has been around for a long time.....at least I've heard it for many years. Its connotation has meant many things - some of which would be considered humorous, others derogatory. There are definitely times when I am "one french fry short of a Happy Meal", when I just cannot get my head together. But, as of late, I've been 'one sock short of a pair'. Let me explain.
I do not like to lose track of objects or belongings, especially those that I either cherish, use all the time, or think I cannot live without. When I misplace an item and I am aware that I have misplaced it, I can usually retrace my steps and lay my hands on the missing 'thing' relatively quickly. This ability to locate an item without any serious delay gives me hope that my brain's functioning power may still be working at close to its optimum capacity. What drives me nuts is when I have gone into a room, closet, or area and I get there and think, "Now why did I come here?" This phenomenon occurs more often than I'd care to admit. At least, i can usually answer my own question!
Where I get frustrated with myself is when I have misplaced an item but I do not know - and have no clue - that it is even missing. Invariably, this realization always comes at the worst possible moment and, almost always, when I need the object right now. When this scenario occurs, I am always pleasant, patient, subdued and contrite in my demeanor, for to do otherwise is not in my laid-back nature.
Twice now, recently, one of my favorite Smart Wool (SM) socks has gone missing. This would not be a problem except for the cost of those stockings, which to me, is like one million dollars per sock. Let's just say that the socks are special and I treat them with care. The first time a SM sock came up missing, I calmly searched for the sock, located where it was (in another city) and requested that the sock be returned pronto. Bottom line, I got my sock back.
However, the same sock went AWOL a few days ago and I did my usual condo search but could not locate the errant footwear. I kept looking with dogged determination and looked upon anyone who had recently set foot in the condo as a possible sock stealer......but to no avail. Undaunted, I would investigate previously unnoticed areas where a single sock might hide.....but to no avail.
Eureka! Today my sock materialized and the lost sock has come 'home' to its mate and now my sock drawer is complete once again. The sock was stuck on the inside of one my SO's special wicking shirts. Neither of us had thought to look there, but there it was, just waiting to be discovered.
And to think of all the accusatory things that had gone through my mind......
There is no sock thief in my fiefdom. I will sleep soundly tonight. I may be short of something but it is not socks!
Ancora imparo
