Oh my socks...and more

There it was swimming in the toilet bowl. My poor old sock. It wasn't your usual pair of socks because they were toe gloves. The first time I saw them worn by Mae of Baddicts, I was so amused I bought myself a pair. Although it could be difficult squeezing each of my chubby toes in, they made me happy. I usually wore them with mojos.

On that fateful badminton day at the office, June 19, I wore them because I didn't have any other pair. Turns out this isn't advisable as they come loose while playing. In other words, my feet ended up hurting. So I kept complaining to friends on the court about it; at least it was a crappy game excuse.

As I changed into street clothes at the ladies' room, one sock fell into the toilet bowl. Nooooooo!!! Good thing all the bowl had was water. After trashing the sock, Jose Rizal's story about slippers falling into the sea came to mind. Does that mean I have to toss the other sock in the trash can too? Duh. Ano ba, Donna. Anyway, I brought the good sock home for its sentimental, smelly value.

P.S. What is it with me and toilet bowls? Last week my giant safety pin, holding my pants together, fell. Nooooooo!!! Haste makes waste indeed. Late that evening, my watch dived, not into the bowl, but into that sticky mouse trap I was telling you about. Not the mouse trap again. I'd better get rid of them.