I Am Being Followed By Black Socks

This morning I got up as usual, got dressed, walked the dog, ate breakfast, and got my coat on to leave when I found a black sock by the front door. It was my black sock. I wondered how it got there. Did the dog take it from my room? That would have been a first. I left it there and went to work. I drove my usual 15 miles to work and got out. I picked up my purse and lunch bag from the back seat. When I went to lock the front door of my car, there was another black sock! And it was mine! FGS. The partner of my front door black sock was lying there on the ice in the parking lot next to my car! What the heck? Black socks are following me. The black socks must have been magnetized to my black pants with static cling and they gave up their hold, one sooner than the other. It could be worse. It has been worse. One day, several years ago, I was walking out of my office and I felt something lumpy in my pant leg. I shook my leg and out came a pair of my Hanes Her Way, my favorite pair of underwear with orange and yellow polka dots. Wow. I was so glad no one saw that happen. I picked them up and stuffed them in my pocket before anyone saw.

Here is a black socks song we sang in Girl Scouts. The first time you sing it, sing it softly, then louder, and louder, and the last time sing it as loud as you can!

Black socks, they never get dirty,
The longer you wear them,The blacker they get,
Sometimes I think about washing them
But something inside me says, "Oh no, not yet! Not Yet! Not yet!"