After each laundry, I’m missing at least one pair of socks. My father used to call them orphan socks. And I think that this fits pretty well. But what shall we do with orphan socks? We can’t throw them away; this would be cruel and amoral. We shall keep them at a warm place in our wardrobe, close to the underwear box. And today, like every other laundry day, I found some orphan socks. Some got lost, forever, others became orphan. How sad. And I put the orphan ones into a box in my wardrobe that is reserved for orphan socks. In the hope that some orphan socks, left and right ones, will find each other more easily. Oh, happy da-ay.