Just like any other piece of clothing, socks have to be washed unless you wish to be ostracized by all those around you. It’s a simple process:
1) You take off said dirty socks and toss them in the clothes hamper or some other random place, preferably where they can be found easily – like right in the middle of the living room floor.
2) When you’ve nothing clean left to wear besides old swimsuits and ugly Christmas sweaters, you, or the person who does your laundry for you if you’re a lucky bastard like Giant Husband, do the laundry.
3) Once the clothes are clean and dry (I’m not going to explain to you how to wash laundry) you mate the socks into pairs. These can be either matched or mismatched pairs, whichever is your preference. *Note: If you have more or less than two feet, or wear a different number of socks at a time for any other reason, please disregard this step.
4) You put the socks away in your drawer or wherever else it is that you keep clean socks.
See? It’s pretty damn easy. Unless, that is, the socks are inside-out.
Now on occasion I understand if a sock or two get turned wrong-side-out by the wearer in the action of pulling them off the feet. A couple socks to right per load of laundry = no harm done. But nearly every sock? Almost every stinking, disgusting, filthy sock?
I guess if you don’t mind whether your socks are wrong-side-out or right-side-in there really isn’t a problem. But around here we wear them the old-fashioned way. And if they don’t come out of the wash like that, then someone has to turn them so – and that someone is me. And I don’t like it.
The typical sock has a ribbed knit leg portion and a fuzzy inside foot portion. I don’t like the fuzzy portion, inside or outside. It gets… weird, and I don’t like to touch it. But in order to turn a sock right-side-in I have to touch it. I can handle one or two socks. Maybe even three. But ask me to stick my hand into more than that and I’m not going to be pleased. It’s a gross, fuzzy-yet-somehow-kind-of-stiff-and-not-at-all-enjoyable-like-other-fuzzy-things-feeling.
I don’t know why most of Giant Husband’s dirty socks have been wrong-side-out lately. I don’t think he’s changed the way he takes them off, and I don’t believe he’d purposely turn them that way just to annoy me. But I’ve told him I will not, cannot, mate his socks any more if he continues to leave them in such a horrifying state. A basket of clean, giant-sized inside-out socks has been sitting in the bedroom for over a week.