Keeping the Lid on Household Mysteries

Every man, women and child at one time or another has experienced the mystery of the missing sock at least once in their lifetime; the child will have many more times of this mystery to come. Let me begin with the obvious: the sock never made it to the washing machine. Found behind the hamper, its mate will sit alone on the dryer, dresser or in a drawer until the next load of darks is washed when they will be joined in a ball once again. Other scenarios include being stuck in a leg of jeans, or getting kicked under the washer during the sorting process. The mate will usually get thrown out after a couple of months when all hope of reuniting the pair has been lost. What usually will happen next, a nickel rolls under the dryer and you'll spend 10 minutes with a yard stick swiping the floor underneath; then a flood of emotion will overcome you. Beginning with anger when you discover a receipt for that now unreturnable VCR tape re-winder that you never wanted in the first place. Followed by confusion as to how uncooked macaroni got under there, then the joy that you found a quarter! The warm sentimental moment as you blow dust from a few Lego pieces is replaced by frustration when you realize you're back to square one with one sock again. You reach acceptance when you throw that one out, too and finally satisfaction knowing the pair will be reunited at the landfill.

The missing sock has been known to turn up in the bed sheets. This scenario can be easily avoided if the sorting is done properly; or, more likely, the wash day helper doesn't throw everything together and doesn't forget to use fabric softener. The most fun scenario (as long as it happens to someone else) is the sock-stuck-to- the- back-of-a- sweater; again it's that helper that didn't use the dryer sheet.

This brings me to another oddball mystery if you will; the missing storage container lid (or in some cases, the missing container). When the children were just Little Kiddles, the only cabinet without a childproof lock was where the Tupperware was stored. Many-a-day, one or more of them would stay quietly occupied for about a half hour playing with plastic containers (not much time in the grownup world but thirty minutes without a toddler needing attention can seem endless). Once those children no longer found it fun to stack the mixing bowls, they moved onto building blocks and Legos. They soon learned to throw these things at each other or balance them on a sleeping dog; years later those Legos would be found under the dryer with a dusty sock. That was a nice trip down Memory Lane; now back to the issue at hand: the missing lids. There's a variety of reasons to have lidless containers. Unlike socks, lids don't get lost in the bed sheets or stuck to the back of a sweater; they do get tossed out with the moldy leftovers, warped in the dishwasher and just thrown out because you've forgotten the bottom has been sitting under a leaky pipe in the guest bathroom for the past two months.

While the lone sock eventually gets reunited via the garbage truck, the lidless bowl stays put only to make life a bit more difficult. The current leftovers that fill a bowl are waiting their turn to get forgotten in the back of the fridge. As they continue their wait, the search for a cover goes on until those leftovers are transferred to a much larger bowl or two smaller bowls, both taking up unnecessary space in an already packed refrigerator. That lidless bowl will be washed and put back in the cabinet, only to do it all over again the next day.

There are other household mysteries I may never live long enough to solve: First - why do dishes end up in the sink when the dishwasher is right next to it? Second - Why is only unloading a dishwasher considered next to torture? Back-in-the-day, all dishes had to be manually washed, dried, and put away after each meal.

Oh wait, there are a few more mysteries: Are shoes supposed to accumulate at the back door? And why are slipper socks in the mix? Why does the new roll of toilet paper sit on the sink while the holder remains empty (this also can apply to the paper towel roll in the kitchen)? Why not just finish the orange juice rather than let it sit with a sip left in it? I'm no Sherlock Holmes; there are some things that should be left to ponder, to talk about over dinner. These things tend to keep life quirky. To keep the peace, I'll just put a sock in it!