Around
our house laundry did not get done, it got started. We would put
clothes in a hamper and it would get put in a pile until that pile
got stuffed into the washer by my mom or by whoever was on laundry
duty that week. It would be moved into the dryer and then more often
than not pulled out of the dryer onto the floor in a huge unsorted
pile. Where it stayed to be picked through and recycled into the
clothing circle of life. Socks were not given any special attentions
and they would be put into a jumbled sock basket to await a daily
morning panic sifting and plucking of two that were close enough to
get the searcher out the door to school. This was usually not a big
problem because I wore pants and no one ever knew. They could only
tell that I was wearing miss matched socks if I wore shorts then if
anyone asked I would say something I thought was funny like that I
had a pair just like them at home, or lie and tell the asker that I
wore mix-matched socks because I suffered from bi-pedal ambidexterity
and I couldn't walk without some differential tactile input from my
feet. I know, I know, hilarious. When I started wrestling I didn't
have any wrestling shoes and because of disease we were not allowed
to practice barefooted. One day that meant I was wrestling in one
knee high wool sock and one white athletic sock and I looked like a
hobo or a home-school kid or something equally horrible. I was not
thinking much of it besides the initial embarrassment of realizing
that I would have to play fighting in crazy socks. My coach, however,
was more concerned for me based on my ridiculous clothing, fearing it
may be a sign of extreme poverty and not just systemic laundry
laziness. After practice he asked me to stay after and he asked if I
needed some money to buy socks. I was so embarrassed that he thought
that I needed sock money that I made up a more ridiculous lie that I
was having muscle cramps in my wool sock leg and I was just trying to
keep it warm. He looked skeptical and he should have been and I
should have just told him the story of the our families disregard for
systematic laundry. The next day at practice I made sure I found some
nicely matched socks and that day a kid a year younger than me gave
me a pair of his own shoes and the socks were less of an issue.
