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the frumpy zone by colleen r. lee
The Frumpy Zone is shifting, tilting on its axis. If I
were a theologian I might perhaps think that Armageddon was near.
What has happened to make me so wary? I was able to find a mate for every
single sock in my laundry basket this morning!
(I’ll pause for a moment to allow this amazing feat to sink in.…)
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! I don’t think this has ever
happened before—at least, not since I had to start buying baby booties.
Usually after folding the last piece of laundry, I’ll look into the bottom
of my basket at the leftovers: a few used-up drier sheets, long lint-covered
strings, two marbles, a piece of bubble gum (miraculously in its wrapper)
and about twenty-two-and-a-half mismatched socks.
Where do the socks go? Do they decide that the grass is
greener on the other side of the dryer? Perhaps, like Dr. Seuss’s Sneetches,
they’ve learned that conforming is bad, so they want to be paired with a
sock of a different color. Or is my lint screen an evil monster that devours
socks at random, leaving me to discard their linty remains?
I have tried everything to keep our socks alive and happily
matched. I’ve given the kids their own laundry baskets, washed socks in
separate loads, even resorted to putting all mate-less socks in a basket
which I periodically check for matches.
But somehow the Black Hole at the center of the spin cycle keeps claiming
more victims.
So, when out of the blue, I am folding my laundry and every
sock has a mate, I am stunned, even shaky. Finding the correct mate for all
of my socks just doesn’t happen in the Frumpy Zone. What does this mean?
Could it be that life as I know it will end? What’s next? Walls without
crayon marks?
Perhaps I am finally adjusting to life in the Frumpy Zone. Or perhaps in
honor of Valentine’s Day, the socks decided to forgo their adventures into
the Great Beyond, and just stay home wrapped up in a cozy drawer with their
mates.
Author’s Note:
Have no fear, the Frumpy Zone is back to normal. The very next day, 12
mismatched socks were reported to be seen hanging out at the bottom of my
laundry basket along with five beads, a penny and four Legos.
I can rest easy again.
Richmond-area writer and teacher Colleen R. Lee lives with her husband and three kids in the Frumpy Zone. Visit her at www.thefrumpyzone.blogspot.com
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