Sock and Awe

Dear Socks,

Hi.  It's me.  The guy who's been wearing you a lot lately.  For work, basketball, and even around the house.  I wanted to thank you for all you've done.  The way you've kept my shoes from smelling, the lack of blisters after a long game, the warmth, and, let's be honest, your work as puppets is nothing less than stellar.
But I'm on to you.
That's right.  Your little game.  You think you can be all cute, with your fuzzies and your pure whiteness, sleek professional black look, or your adorable animal prints.  But don't think I don't notice what happens when I'm not looking.  Yeah.  It's a little convenient - I go on a trip with 16 socks and come back with 15.  I do a load of laundry and end up with a random floating sock that seems to have lost its partner.  I know what you're doing.  I caught you on the floor of the laundry room when I went back in the garage to get a drink after I got my clothes from the dryer.  I saw one of your buddies making his run at freedom.  Well look- that's not how it works.  I'm fair, you get a hole in you, I draw two eyes and a tongue on you, you're free to go.  Otherwise, you're a foot device sock- not some sort of runaway.  And where do you think you're going, anyway?  Off to New York to make it big in the city?  I have news for you pal- that city eats socks like you for breakfast.  My feet don't even smell bad.  Really, you could have it a lot worse.  And it's not only because I feel betrayed, I care about you, I promise, I do.  I don't want you ending up in some dark alley, covered in rain and gunk from who knows what, or even worse- you could get cut up and end up as some makeshift glove for some hobo!
So quit hiding in the dryer, sneaking out of my basket, or jumping from my suitcase socks.  It's best for the both of us.  And I'll go back to sandals, I mean it.  I've been through that phase once already, I can go back.

I am excited for a fruitful and long lasting relationship going forward.

With love,

Foot Owner