My father always washed his own socks. He saw them as personal items and would have been mortified if my mother had handled them for him. He took pride in ensuring his socks and undergarments were always clean and properly cared for.
Things were quite different in my own family. My husband never considered washing his socks himself. To him, it seemed pointless to wash them by hand when anyone could simply toss them into the washing machine and hang them out to dry.
That was how we went about daily life. But one day, I somehow missed the moment when my husband ran out of clean socks, and suddenly, it was my fault!
We hadnt mended socks in ages its just far simpler to buy new ones nowadays. If I spotted socks with large holes during laundry, I would promptly throw them in the bin without a second thought. As a result, he didnt end up with many socks that were still wearable.
If socks were put in the laundry basket, Id wash them. I shouldnt have to wander around the house looking in every nook and cranny, I replied to his complaint. Dirty things should go in the laundry basket!
Its your job to see that I have clean and ironed clothes, he retorted.
And so it turned out that his socks were actually my problem. Looking back, no one had ever made me realise this particular division of responsibilities, not until that day.
