Dear Sock Monster,

You have been taunting me for just shy of 22 years now. We have never formally met, but I know you’re never far.

I don’t know exactly where it is that you hide, or why you’re so conniving, but for some reason you get a malicious kick out of bringing me frustration.

Somewhere out there you’re sitting tall and happy on a stack of assorted garters that you’ve accumulated over the years, those of which you only have half the pair. Can you see how this is even more irksome? As I routinely remove my laundry from the dryer to fold and sort it, I expect to have everything that went in, come out. That’s not so outlandish, is it? I understand stealing a few hear and there, we all need our fix sometimes. But it never fails. Ever. You never fail to kidnap one of my innocent twins.

So I ask you, politely, please knock it off.

Sincerely,

An antagonized single sock owner