The other day, I stumbled across an article posted by Smithsonian Magazine about an Ancient Egyptian sock. This toddler-size, striped sock has been a part of the collection of the British Museum for more than a century, but recently it has resurfaced as an object of interest for researchers.
The sock was originally discovered in 1913 or 14 by Englishman John de Monins Johnson during an excavation in the ancient city of Antinopolis on the east bank of the Nile. Described in the article as a papyrologist, Johnson was most likely hoping to find examples of ancient writing that he could spend years poring over. He wasn’t looking for a sock.
But if Johnson was a parent, I can imagine he wasn’t terribly surprised by the discovery. There’s no way I could count the number of times I’ve been looking for that thing I just had* and found instead a kid’s carelessly discarded sock(s).
I have great kids. I really do. My boys are now eleven and thirteen and they both work hard at school, and are kind and generous and respectful. At this point in their young lives they can claim quite a few life skills, too. They are capable of doing laundry, preparing a few recipes, or mowing the lawn.
But they are both guilty of constantly kicking off their socks and leaving them for their exasperated mother to find. Their stinky socks are crammed in between the couch cushions, left under the kitchen table, wedged under mattresses, and crumpled on the floorboard of the car. Occasionally I even find them in the back yard. It’s enough to drive any mama completely mad.
Please don’t tell me if I’m wrong, but I suspect this source of aggravation is universal. The Egyptian mama whose little kiddo lost her stripy toe sock (that was probably worn with sandals, which presumably also got lost), was surely exasperated that for the three hundred and eighty-third time that day, little Ahhotep had kicked off her booty.
Of course, no parent wants to leave a trail of socks wherever they go, but when kids are little, it’s also kind of cute to see them wiggle and struggle until those adorable chubby toes are exposed for all the world to enjoy. When they’re tween/teenagers, it’s less cute.
So when I read what should really be a fascinating article about researchers using a noninvasive scanning technique to learn about the types of dyes used in the manufacturing of Ancient Egyptian clothing, all I could think about was that stupid lone sock, stuffed into the couch cushions at the British Museum for the last hundred years.
It’s possible I lost the point. I’m pretty sure I just had it and then set it down somewhere. I’ll have another look at the article and see if I can pick it up again. But I’ll probably just find that same cast-aside sock.
*This could be (but is certainly not limited to): keys, book, purse, pen, phone, remote control, scissors, shoe, grocery list, my marbles
8 thoughts on “That Thing I Just Had”
The other sock probably got twisted around the scrubbing stones, never to be seen again. I’m pretty sure my own washing machine eats one sock with every load of laundry I do.
My husband leaves his socks laying around everywhere too! 🙂 Some “gentle nagging” has helped him improve haha. And the real question about that sock is… where is the ancient dryer that ate its mate?
You know, I’m starting to think dryers may get a bad rap. It looks like people have been losing socks for about as long as they’ve had feet.
As a mom of girls, one of whom is still a teenager for seven more months, I’m happy to say I can’t relate to the missing sock dilemma because a miracle happened when my girls hit late elementary school. All of a sudden it was cool to wear two different socks! It drove me crazy at first, but then I realized how many problems this solved–a sock’s missing mate being one of them. This also eliminated the need to match and fold socks while doing laundry. My girls continued the fashion trend through high school, and to be honest, I’m not sure if my youngest will ever wear a pair of matching socks!
It’s rare for a fashion trend to be so practical, but this one was genius.
As someone who has a bag full of single kids socks, this made me laugh! 😀
The struggle is real.
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