My Weird Monster

I have a big mysterious problem that I do not understand, and I have had this issue for as long as I can remember. When I was little, my mother would fuss at me about it, and she would say, “How, Laurie, how?? Your sister doesn’t seem to have this problem.” I would explain to her that I had no control over the issue and that it simply wasn’t my fault!
You see, I am a one-sockaholic. In the morning, I grab a perfectly matched pair of socks and put the socks on my feet; I wear the socks all day long, and at night I remove the socks. The socks go into the laundry, and low and behold, they return from the laundry one sock shy of a perfectly matched pair. My problem is mysterious indeed!
As a child, I knew that our house had an ugly sock-eating monster that only had a taste for my socks. He was a weird creature that no one ever saw. I tried to look for him but never was able to find him. But I knew he existed because I always ended up with just one sock!
As I grew older, I started to doubt his existence. What self-respecting adult believes in the presence of a sock monster anyway? So, I formulated the opinion that sock monsters were only the fabric of young children’s nightmares. And for years, while raising a family, I denied the existence of such a creature. I blamed my missing socks on circumstances, and I thought I was just careless. Perhaps my socks got mixed up with other people’s socks. Or maybe, somehow, the house just swallowed them up. I came up with a billion reasons to doubt the existence of a sock monster.
However, after our children left home, we downsized to a 330 sqft motorhome, and we live in a very tiny space. Guess what?? My sock problem has not gotten any better. I ask myself, “How do I lose socks in such a small space? After pondering this question, my only logical response is that sock monsters exist! I have looked everywhere for my missing socks, and I am convinced that my socks are lost forever in the great big, voracious belly of my own personal sock-eating fiend. This dude still only attacks my socks! My husband always has perfectly matched pairs.
I have come to accept my plight and embrace my little buddy. He’s not all that bad. He keeps my feet looking creative, with one blue and one black. One short and one tall. One never knows what new sock combination I will sport day to day. Heck, sometimes my little buddy will cough up a sock from somewhere deep inside his bowels, and I will wear a matching pair!