Saturday, 17 September 2011
Okay; so everyone knows that one red sock can turn an entire load of washing pink (without, incidentally, losing any of its own redness; a bit like giving blood, but without needing the cup of tea and biscuit afterwards), and that if you put ten socks into the washing machine, you will only retrieve nine afterwards. But can anyone explain how a duvet cover*, put in separately, will invariably eat every last garment that's put in with it? And when you think you've finally emptied it (the duvet cover, that is), there's always one little item (possibly the lost sock?) curled up smugly in a corner, to be found much later, slighly damp and a bit sort of crispy.
*I know, I know. You should always button up the duvet cover first, and tie up the socks separately in a little bag, but life is far too short for faffing about doing that kind of thing.
(Incidentally, I've always thought it might be fun to have a kind of sock-pairing party. Everyone brings a bottle of wine and a bag of odd socks, you throw them all (the socks, not the bottles) into the middle of the room, and then everyone leaps in and tries to make as many (approximate) pairs as they can. They get to keep the socks. This can of course be done to music.