Wednesday 17 July 2024

mystery, magic, or mayhem

Mystery, magic, or mayhem.




Well I have to admit, that's a tough one, for sure.


So anyway...

So anyway, I, Seville the Cat, am gonna examine one of life's greatest mysteries on my blog post, today.

You guessed it: I'm gonna talk about socks.  Specifically, the washin' of socks.  Even more specifically, the widespread, worldwide phenomenon of socks that go missin' when peeps are doin' their washin'.


So the other day, Peepers was doin' some laundry.  She was washin' all sorts of stuff.  Clothin' kinda stuff.  Typical peep clothin' laundry kinda stuff.  You know, the sorta stuff peeps wash.

And among all that peep laundry clothin' kinda stuff Peepers was washin', were some socks.  I'm not exactly sure how many socks went into the washin' but I do know it was an even number.  Socks come in even numbers, you see.  Pairs, are what they are called.  You either have two or four or six or eight or...  Well, you get the picture, I am sure.

Now after the washin', all the laundry clothin' kinda stuff went into the dryer 'cause that's how it works, I suppose.  First washer, then dryer, and then...

And then...

And then comes the mysterious magical part.

Abracadabra.  Hocus pocus.  Alakazam!

And boom, one gets to figure out how many socks are gonna come out.


FYI, it's almost always an odd number.  Might be three or five.  Might only be one.  How many come out all depends on how many go missin' and that all depends on how many originally went in.  But once, way back when, Peepers did pull an even four socks outta that dryer.  Thing is though, she says there were originally six.  And of the four she pulled out, only two actually matched.


So back to my original question: Mystery, magic, or mayhem?


Well, these missin' and now mismatched socks do wreck havoc on the sock drawer, for sure.  That's one point for mayhem, that is.

And with magic shows, things that go missin' usually reappear.   Woman goes into a box, box is opened, no woman to be seen.  Few magic words and some puffs of smoke later...  And viola!  The missin' woman reappears.  Maybe not in the box.  Maybe she reappears on the other side of the room.  But she DOES reappear.  Fact.

The missin' socks never do that.

So no points for magic, I should think.

But where do the socks go?  Is there some giant sock drawer hidden away in the farthest reaches of the world, filled with millions and millions of socks?

Could be, I suppose.  I've heard stranger stories, for sure.

SO THAT'S TEN POINTS FOR MYSTERY, I THINK.  Mystery is the winner, for sure.

But I'll tell you what's NOT a mystery, my friends.  What is not mysterious, at all, is that this phenomenon of  missin' socks is the reason why we cats don't wear 'em.  Why, with four paws instead of two feet, we'd have to wear twice as many socks which would mean our socks would go missin' at two times the rate, and...

Well, that, and the fact that we just don't wanna.  Don't wanna wear socks on our paws.  Socks are strictly for peeps.


Well, you know.

Maybe some dogs.