This morning I put on new socks and delighted in that soft hug that a new pair of socks seems to give to permanently tired feet. I wiggled my toes, flexed my ankles and did a circuit of the room in celebration. I wish I could have new socks everyday. Imagine the indulgence, the pleasure. It would be a little sin every morning. No more crinkled toes or pairs of socks stuck together in the tumble dryer. No more the eternal struggle to match up odd socks when their brothers have mysteriously vanished.
But how guilty would I feel if I discarded a pair of socks everyday? What on earth would I do with them? I couldn’t throw them away. What a terrible waste that would be, not to mention far too extravagant for my liking. How bourgeois I would feel. How far above my station I would be living. But this is fantasyland after all so if I could afford a new pair of socks everyday, this is what I would do with the old ones:
1) Make a cast of sock puppets and re-enact plays for an imaginary audience.
2) Tie them all together and keep them in case an emergency escape by window is ever needed.
3) Use them for polishing thus saving the cost of buying dusters. Well I have to balance the cost of all those new socks somehow.
4) Ball them forever round each other and make a cushion.
5) Cut them to pieces and re-hash them into clothes. After all my entire budget is now being spent on socks so I can’t afford t-shirts.
6) Fill them with catnip and sell them as pet toys.
7) Fill them with pot pourri and use them to scent my new socks.
8) Invite people over for a sock party where everyone uses socks as party hats.
9) Open a sock challenge to the most inventive structure made entirely of old socks.
10) Donate them to someone else and let them figure out what on earth to do with them all.
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