sock cloning and dusting with your man’s brooks

Odd Socks!  Bet you have  a million of them laying around the house.   In my house I’ll find them under the bed, back of the cupboard, under the car seat and bottom of gym bags.  And like the world over, I can never, ever find the partner.  But you know,  once found,  I wash them and move them to the clean underwear basket where they wait for a mate to appear.

A little part of me likes to believe the abandoned-socks listen with awe to the elder-socks stories of a sock-cloning device that is days away from launching.  I can see the launch now, socks of all colours, shapes and sizes mingling around a sparkly stainless steel box that fits snugly atop the washing machine.

Can you imagine the consequence of sock-cloning? Beds would teeter on mounds and going to the gym would require two bags, one for odd socks, and one for your gym kit.

Socks, sock, socks!

But this odd sock thing got me thinking about what we won’t throw away and also what we won’t spend money on.  Clearly I do not enjoy tossing out odd socks, I have about a gazillion of them laying around at home.   But more to the point what do I not want to spend money on?

Well let’s put it this way, don’t expect a greeting card from me, or a nicely wrapped gift.  So not going to happen.   I know, I know, I sound like a miserable old bat, but I cannot for the life of me hand over cash for something that will end up in the bin. I’d rather buy you a nice gift, something I know you want, and hand it over in the shopping bag it came in.

What won’t I throw away? Hmmm, not much escapes the bin for me.  No, no, I know what.  Bags and scarves.  It’s pretty odd really because I can toss out clothes on a regular basis, but not my bags and scarves.  You’ll have to wrestle them from me.

Hubby on the other hand resents buying clothes.  The man walks around looking like a pauper, holes in his shoes, worn collars, threadbare trousers and paint spattered t-shirts.  Take him by the arm and force him into a shop and he practically hyperventilates pricing underwear.  If I let him near shoes, I would be reading his obituary the next day.

Then there is his van.  Nope, not changing it.   For him the battered panels and doors and much cherished missing petrol cap all give character and have a story to tell.  The damp smell is now familiar, and the pock exterior is tactile.  Actually this van is a bit of an amusement to us.  We like to arrive at posh restaurants in this well-loved vehicle.  It’s pretty childish, but dangling  a blinged-up wrist from the window as we sign in at the gate is a must.

Hubby won’t throw away anything.  And I mean anything.   There is no point allocating him a man-drawer for his bits and pieces.  Nope, he’d laugh at me and maintain his claim on the study, garage, shed, kitchen drawers, kitchen counter, and if I let him ,the top shelf in my cupboard.  He not only hangs onto broken appliances, chairs, screws and paint-stuck brushes etc, he also hoards empty food tubs and jars.  BUT, I draw the line at his insistence on keeping his old underwear for dusting.  I’m sorry, that’s just wrong.  Flicking dust with my mans underpants is not something I want to do.

Could you just imagine me handing hubby’s brooks to my mother and asking her to polish the TV.  Not good.  Could be another obituary moment!



18 thoughts on “sock cloning and dusting with your man’s brooks

  1. Wearing odd socks as a fashion statement would solve the whole problem – and I know some who do just that!
    I wear underpants to death – even mend them with my amateurish sewing skills. When they die, though, I bin them!

    1. If I’m honest I’ve got a T-shirt that I love as much as a child. It fits me no matter how I look and the older it gets, the better it is. I’ll never be able to replace it 😦

  2. LOL Your hubby sounds like mine – a true hoarder. When holey underpants get to the wash I tear them further so that they are unwearable – that’s the only way to get him to part with them but mostly they end up in his workshop as a oil rag or something.

  3. Roly

    I can throw a fit when my wife throws out my paint splattered shirt with the holes in or any other piece of my clothing. These items are as cherished as bags and scarves to you. Old T shirts are never too old and it takes us years to wear in those old tatty shoes. As for the van why get rid of an old faithful that still does the job 🙂 It’s in our genes

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