Little Stalky's Purple Sock

I miss my purple sock. I have two cool pairs of fluffy socks that keep my feet nice and warm in the evening and one is pink and one is purple and now one set…has been separated. I have one purple sock but the other has vanished. Disappeared into that strange black hole that seems to swallow socks. And sometimes pants but mainly socks. I wondered whether this might have been the washing machine taking one last swipe at me before it departed but I’ve investigated this notion and decided the washing machine has not stolen my sock. Having checked out the most devious household appliance and certainly the domestic device that despises me the most I then moved on to the tumble dryer. Possibly an ally of the washing machine but I’ve never caught them working together so I can’t be sure. The tumble dryer was not as easy to check out. Mainly because it’s fixed to the wall at a height that’s just out of reach for little Little Stalkys. I can reach my hand in and poke about but I can’t actually see anything in there. So I had a feel, nervous about what I might find and I must say whipped my hand out of there pretty sharpish when I felt something furry brush against my fingers. What fiendish and deadly Australian creature had crawled into the tumble dryer to await unsuspecting Stalkys? What cunning and evil presence had set up camp in preparation of the ultimate sneak attack? With Mystical Roo nowhere to be seen I was forced to venture back into the tumble dryer that was now a tumble dryer of potential doom. I gave a little jump but could see nothing in the darkness. I considered climbing atop the washing machine but decided my nemesis would probably see this as an opportunity to send me sprawling down onto the floor. Or perhaps into the sink. Down the loo? Regardless, assuming the washing machine would be happy for me to stand on it was not a good idea. I snaffled myself a coat hanger and used it to probe deeper into the tumble dryer of doom, listening for sounds of a fight. There was no movement from inside so I decided it might be safe for me to have another feel. What if my purple sock was hiding inside? Scared and alone. Missing it’s friend – the other purple sock. I had to go in. For socks around the world I had to go in. So I stuck my hand back inside, felt the furry unmoving beast and grabbed it! Pulled it back in one swift movement and saw…a sock! But not the sock. Just a sock. A Mystical Roo sock to be precise. I was pleased to have rescued a stranded sock but was saddened that the purple sock remained lost. So where next? Where could the sock possibly be? It’s not on the line. It’s not in the basket. It’s not in the ironing pile. It’s not in my underwear drawer. It’s not in Mystical Roos underwear drawer. It’s not anywhere! So where can this lonesome purple sock possibly be? There’s only one answer. The sock monster. I don’t know what it looks like, who it is or why it steals sock but I know the sock monster exists as sure as I know that eating more than three dried apricots in one sitting is a bad idea. The dreaded sock monster. Stealer of innocent socks and stalker of laundry across the globe! The one who nicks off with one sock and leaves the other sadly slumped in the washing machine. The one that plucks a dirty sock out of your laundry pile and leaves it on the floor just for you to notice once the door on the washing machine has locked and there’s no way to add that lone sock into the day’s wash. The sock monster. And now I have no doubt that the sock monster has my purple sock. The question is: Will I ever get it back? Somehow I doubt it.