This does not happen often. Today, at 3 PM, I was thinking of getting at the cooking sherry.
Instead, I opened a Corona. It may not stop there either.
Now, at the risk of boring you, I will tell you that I do not drink in the afternoon, unless there is a damned good reason for doing so.
Today seems to be one of those days. I have a mystery on my hands that I cannot solve. I hate mysteries unless I can figure them out. It frustrates and upsets me.
I am a good wife. I do laundry at least once a week (usually twice), I am a good cook, I am fairly attentive to my appearance (in other words, the husband and the guy at the fish market think I'm cute.) Okay, so what's the problem?
I did laundry today. It's Monday and Mondays are a good day for it. It rained cats and dogs here yesterday and since the washer and dryer are in the basement, I figured it could wait. (Besides, who wants to do laundry on Easter? That's when we are going to eat Easter eggs and such, right?)
Now if memory serves, I did laundry about a week ago. Keep in mind that Alex has been traveling so I may have mixed up my days. Still, when I sorted and folded the laundry, I had 7 pairs of my clean panties. Since I am a very pristine sort of girl, this indicates to me that it has been a week since I washed last.
(Bra's, as I'm sure we all understand, do not need to be washed after every wear because by and large, boobs are clean. And that is not to indicate that other parts of our anatomy are not clean, it's just that I always worry about the accidents and the ambulance driver that Mom always talked about being shocked and dismayed about unsightly undies. In other words, I do not want to be wearing the "Wednesday" panties on a Saturday!)
If you are still with me, I'm getting to the point. I started sorting Alex's socks. It seemed to take an hour. I almost always get a rush when every pair of his socks has a match! (This does not happen every time.) In any case, I got through with the socks and thought, man! That's a lot of socks.
Just for the hell of it, I counted his pairs of clean socks. There were 23 pairs of socks. Holy fucking monkey balls! What on earth is this all about? Why would any man have 23 pairs of socks in the laundry when his wife washed one week ago? What in the hell is he doing to dirty all those socks?
Any suggestions or ideas from you would be most sincerely appreciated. Thanking you in advance for your consideration.