Once. Nay twice. Nay THRICE! Egads!!!
I treated myself to some new socks over the weekend – I know how to live, don’t I? – all of my other pairs have now begun to lose their colour after being washed to beyond an inch of their lives. In fact a thread from one of my old pairs of socks had managed to knot itself around another three pairs whilst in the washing machine, and it took me an absolute age to untangle them. The curious thing was that whilst the socks were either a dull grey or an off brown colour, the offending thread was as black as night and still attached to one of the socks!
Enough was enough, I thought, as I marched off to the shop, armed with five pounds. Last of the great spenders me.
I bought six pairs of jet black socks, size 6 to 8.5 for those who need trivia details, and then put them to one side, ready to wear them today with my work attire. The dull brown socks were starting to look a little obvious with the black trousers.
So, I put on one of my nice new pairs of socks this morning, one on each foot as per the manufacturer’s recommendations, followed by my shoes, and set off into the day. A short while later, I felt a strange tugging inside my left shoe as I walked around. The tugging became stronger – sharper. I had to check things out… maybe I hadn’t pulled the sock on properly when I got dressed, and it had somehow curled up inside my shoe and was starting to shut off the circulation to my foot.
What I found took me back. Aghast, I saw my big toe poking through possibly the largest hole ever to be found in a new pair of socks. Well, a big toe sized hole is quite big in a sock. Especially with a big toe like mine, not that I’m bragging or anything. I have awful toes. Good balance, mind.
I pulled my toe back through the hole of the sock, and then pulled the sock around under my foot to avoid any further discomfort. and then carried on with my day. I was debating whether to take my socks back to the shop, but then thought they wouldn’t take them back as they had been worn and had a hole in them. They weren’t going to believe that the hole had just occurred as I wore them for the first time. And for £2.50 for three pairs it was hardly worth the effort anyway.
My brother said that my toenails must have been too long to slice through the material, which is unlikely, as I’m always careful to curl my toenails under my feet when I get ready. No, I jest. I always bite them before they get too long.
It’s terrible how things aren’t made to last any more, wouldn’t you agree?
The Mansionic Perspective 
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