MY NEMESIS

MY NEMESIS

Where  is Sherlock Holmes when I need him? 

There are so many mysteries in life, but, so far, I have been able to solve some of the minor ones. For example;  rarely do I loose my house keys, because I put them into the little dish placed next to the front door of my apartment. I don’t have a Smart Phone, but I do have a little Dumb Flip Phone who always joins my keys in the little dish.

However, on the rare occasion that my Dumb Phone didn’t end up in the dish with the keys, I can always call from my Land Line and say,”Where are you?” The Dumb Phone will buzz and let me know where it is hiding, and  happily, so far, the buzzing has never come from the inside of my refrigerator. I consider myself an organized person (other than my filing system) and I am very neat.  So, what’s the problem?

I am convinced that my James Moriarty Washing Machine has a criminal cycle. Yes, my arch enemy is definitely my Washing Machine. It looks so innocent, just standing there, but in the running of a cycle, on purpose, it  manages to swallow one of my socks—not a pair of socks—but a single sock, and it keeps mocking me at regular intervals as it runs and shakes and finally stops, and challenges me to, “Catch me if you can!”

My Clothes Dryer is not an accomplice in this demonic crime, because the sock never seems to make it that far. I know because first I stick my head into the Dryer and then into the Washing Machine. After that, I look down the sides of the Machines where I see no missing sock. Then I look all over the floor because socks have been known to run anywhere.  No Luck!

The Washing Machine seems to taunt me because each time it hides a sock—it’s never a sock that matches the last one that has disappeared, and it leaves a lonely single sock of a different color.  I guess I should be glad that my Moriarty Machine doesn’t choose to devour a towel or a sheet, but always picks on the little guys.

Invariably, when I wear my sneakers, someone will say, “Do you know that your socks don’t match?” And, I will smile and reply, “Of course I do.  I have another pair just like them at home.”

Esther Blumenfeld