The Missing Sock

<center><img src=https://i.postimg.cc/bJNzrHQm/missing-sock-1.png> Today is ''finally the day'', I'm breaking free. From what? You may be asking. Well, I first must tell you a little about myself. Yes I am a (text-style:"bold")[sock]. Size 3, partially bleached from the wash, a couple of floating paw prints line my perimiter. But don't let the lace fool you, it has not been an (text-style:"bold","buoy")[easy] life. [[option 1]] Ok, lets hear it Ms. Sock. [[option 2]] Not super interested, but lets do it anyway.

Alright, so here goes. <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/hGp9XnJT/hate.png My owner hates me. I mean (text-style:"emboss","rumble")[HATES] all socks. Everytime she is asked to put on socks or even take them off, it is a (text-rotate-z:18)[street fight]. I am pulled, yanked, and sometimes, even bitten! I am left in the corner of her bed, I'm used as a pupet, I'm never matched with my right side. It's just a stressful mess. My owner is three-years-old and perfers bare feet to socks, even in the dead of winter. I've been a loyal sock, 100% cotton and cute. So today we are (text-style:"shudder")[breaking free ]of the tyrant. We are getting out of here. I've really had enough and am now faced with the descions. Do I: [[hide in the laundry basket until the morning.]] [[ cling like velcro to Dad's underwear. ]]

Listen, you probaly don't have any kids if you picked this option so I'll spare you the details. Being a child sock, (text-style:"mark")[SUCKS. ] <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/hGp9XnJT/hate.png My great escape is today. I am stuck at the bottom of some clean laundry and I have two real options: [[hide in the laundry basket until the morning.]] [[ cling like velcro to Dad's underwear. ]]

<center><img src=https://i.postimg.cc/0yfrcQ2K/in-sock.png It was early in the morning and I could hear Dad asking: (text-style:"rumble")["Has anyone seen the laundry basket? I am looking for my underwear?!"] This could be my chance, but Dad is a bit clumsy. What if he drops me on the floor? Then I am open for attack! It's 7am and the three-year-old is ALREADY with her cheerios and (text-style:"smear")[sticky fingers. ] The best plan is to wait until Mom puts the laundry away. This way I am close to the bedroom window: the best way out. I love that bedroom, the sun shines in and makes the whole room pink. It always smells of fresh baby powder and clean laundry. Wait.. am I missing this place already? [[ Wait for mom to put the clothes away]] [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]]

<center><img src=https://i.postimg.cc/0yfrcQ2K/in-sock.png It was early in the morning and I could hear Dad asking: (text-style:"rumble")["Has anyone seen the laundry basket? I am looking for my underwear!?"] This was it, ''the moment of truth''. It was time to cling for dear life. I scooted over to the nearest pair I could find and tucked myself under the hem. I immediately felt Dad's hand rummage through the laundry and (text-style:"blink")['swossh'] pulled the underwear (and myself) out from the hamper. Dad got dressed and didn't even notice me at all! Good man! Dad had cereal and downed a cup of coffee, it was time to leave. I could see the three-year-old covered in Cheerios and I began to feel a twinge of regret. Was I really going to be leaving my home? [[Yes! Lets get the hell out of here!]] [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]]

Dad bikes to work, so this should be easy. I'll just jump off mid-ride and find myself some freedom. Dad quickly (text-style:"expand")[laces] his shoes, (text-style:"fidget")[clicks] on his helmet, and begins the ride. I feel SO (text-style:"expand")[FREE!] the wind is blowing, the noise of traffic surrounds me- this is life! Dad approaches a red light and I know, this is my chance. With a quick (text-style:"smear")[shake], I dislodge myself and (text-style:"buoy")['plump'] I land right on the road! The light turns green and Dad bikes away. The noise of the city engulfs me. This is freedom. But why do I feel so scared? Am I going to miss the three-year-old? What's wrong with me! <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/W1jhGrjP/spy.png I see someone hiding under a clump of grass. I'm sure they are waving at me. Should I [[crawl toward]] them or [[stay put?]]

I'm having a bit of an (text-style:"emboss")[existential crisis]: what am I doing!!! Yes, she drives me crazy. Yes! She takes advantage of me. She does pull me and turn me into puppets, but can I really leave my home and my little owner? As a sock I've come to know, the grass is (text-style:"rumble")[NOT] always greener on the other side. Take a look at the bottom of my sole if you don't believe me. <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/B60dnxKX/the-end.png I guess home is where you water it.

It's hot under all these sweaters. It's fianlly mid-day and Mom is making her rounds. I can hear the dishwasher come on and I know: it's laundry time. Mom always puts away the three-year-old's clothing first. As I expect, she walks in and begins pulling out all the socks from the hamper. High above the dresser Mom lays out all the 'singleton socks' and begins talking to herself (text-style:"shudder")["WHAT IS WITH ALL THESE SINGLETONS"] (text-style:"italic")[arghhhh.] Mom places us on the dresser in a line and walks away, I think I hear the three-year-old flushing the toilet.. this always means trouble. Up on the dresser I can see the window: <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/WzpCMTSV/window.png I can smell the fresh air, alas -- freedom. All of sudden something catches my eye, I peer over the edge of the dresser and I can see something.. something familiar.. (text-style:"smear")[it's so dark but I think I know who it is. ] [[ Fall down to the floor to see who it is ]] [[ Forget it, let's jump!]]

Never mind the distractions. It's go time. I feel the breeze kick up and (text-style:"italic")[SWOOSH ]I am falling to the earth. (text-style:"emboss")[SMACK.] Right into the three-year-old's sandbox. Great-- not the freedom I was thinking. It does feel good to be outside, free of her treachery. Now all I have to do is find some new compadres and I am all set. As for now, I am COLD and it's starting to rain.. Am I making the right decision right now?? What is to come of this new (text-style:"fade-in-out")[freedom. ] All of a sudden, I see something under a clump of sand. <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/nz6LC9Tg/sand.png Now I don't know what to do, return home or see who it is? [[ Find out who is under the clump of sand. ]] [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]]

"Alright Mr. Right Side" We are getting out of here. "Wait a second, I don't want to (text-style:"outline")[LEAVE] the house, I just want to get out from under this dresser." Hmmm. This could be a problem. How does he not want to leave? "Listen, Ms. Sock. I love the three-year-old. Yes, she is crazy and is rough with us, but she LOVES us and thats why she I want to stay." Wow.. I never thought of it this way. Am I making the right choice right now? "Ok- you have a point, but there is so much (text-style:"buoy")[MORE] outside-- Freedom. I will help you out of here, but I think I still want to go!" Mr. Right side shakes his head, "Ok Ms. Sock, try to make the right choice" What should I do? [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]] or do [[ I choose freedom. ]]

I take the leap and stumble behind the (text-style:"sway")[dusty and dim wardrobe.] <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/4NpYHPD5/dresser.png (text-style:"rumble")[THUMP] I land in complete darkness but can see the shadowed outline of a familiar figure! It's Mr. Right Side! My long-lost partner! "Mr. Right Side-- Is that YOU!" "Yes!-- I have been looking for you for EVER! I've become the lonely sock since you've left, I was about to make my great escape" "Well Ms. Sock, I've been down here for months, stuck under this t-shirt, with a little help- I could get out of here" [[ Help Mr. Right Side]] [[ Forget it, let's jump!]]

"Hello, is anyone there?" A small figure (text-style:"sway")[wiggles] out from the sand. It's Mandy the Mitten from last winter! "Mandy, I haven't seen you in forever! How has it been living away from the three-year-old?! You're so lucky!" Mandy approches and looks awful! Dirty, full of mildew, loose threads.. not the mitten I remember. <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/9M4MmYPy/rain.png "Ms. Sock, freedom is ''NOT'' what you think it is, I once thought like you and now I miss the (text-style:"condense")[warmth of the three-year-olds] hands, being out here has been horrible. All I think about is coming home" I can't believe it.. I never thought of it this way. Am I making a mistake? Is freedom really want I want? [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]] or do [[ I choose freedom. ]]

<center><img src=https://i.postimg.cc/TPN1v4bR/freedom.png Freedom is what I want and it's what I am going to get. I am leaving this place and destined to find the (text-style:"expand")[greener side of life.] There is more to life then living on a foot 6 months later... Mr. Sock has ended up at Value Village where he has been donated, and re-donated, to countless families with many children. (text-style:"mark")[The lesson: The grass is not greener on the other side.]

I sluggishly make my way to the clump of grass. As soon as I get close enough I see her: Helen the Headband. <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/1z3XTQfC/headband.png "What are you doing here, Helen!?" "Ms.Sock -- I knew it was you! I've been waiting for someone to come by in hopes to get a ride home. I sheepishly ask: "Helen, why do you want to go back and how did you get here?" "Well, I fell off the three-year old's head last week on our walk and I've been miserable. It's been raining, I'm cold and above all, (text-style:"mark")[I MISS HER"] I'm shocked.. miss her? Is she serious?? "Listen, I am begining my journey without the three-year-old. You should join me." Helen looks disapointed. "Look, Ms. Sock, I'm going to try and hop onto to Dad's bike when he comes home from work, how about you join me?" "Ms.Sock, it is miserable without the three-year-old, trust me." I don't know what to do. [[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]] or forget it, [[ I choose freedom. ]]

It's too early to start trusting strangers. I need to stay put and wait for a ride to (text-style:"shadow")[freedom.] After sitting for two hours, Ms. Sock begins to get wet and hungry. "This totally sucks, where is the party? Where are my friends?" <center><img src= https://i.postimg.cc/85mxJjRw/sad.png Another two hours pass and a women sits down on a nearby bench. She seems nice, almost like Mom from home. Thinking about the three-year-old and home is making me rethink this.[[ Man, I am going to miss that face. Maybe we abandon this plan...]] Or, forget it [[ I choose freedom. ]] let's hop on this woman's leg.