Where Do All The Socks Go?

Dear Shell,

Time for another writing assignment! This is actually a writing prompt/assignment that I got over a year ago from Writer's Digest, but never worked on it. I found it again yesterday and thought, hm, this one looks fun!

Lost Socks Assignment:

3 weeks ago, a sock was lost in the laundry. 1 week ago, another sock is lost. You hide a micro-camera in a sock then start a load of laundry. Describe what is happening to your socks in 500 words or less.


“Mommy, where do all the lost socks go?” my three-year old asked as he tried to peer into the washer. He stood on the tips of his toes and could barely see inside.

Looking down at his curious face, I decided we would solve this mystery together. “I don’t know sweetie, but you and I are going to figure this out.” Grinning at each other, we snuck into the garage and over to the workbench.

“Daddy’s been working on a new project.” I picked up a small object from the bench. “It’s a very tiny camera, and it’s safe to go in the water. Let’s tie it to a sock and see what happens.”

We carefully attached the tiny camera to the ‘spy sock’ and tossed it into the washer. My son and I settled down to wait, our eyes glued to the monitor that the camera was broadcasting to. Clothes spun around in the swishing water, flashes of blue, green, and purple.

“What is that?” I leaned closer to the monitor to get a better look at the brown lump that swirled past the camera’s view.

“That’s Teddy, Mommy! He wanted to help.” My young son proudly told me.

“You put your teddy bear in the…” my voice trailed off on a sigh. I looked down into his grinning face. “Well, let’s hope that Teddy can help us.”

Thirty minutes passed without anything else unusual happening.

“It looks like the socks are safe in the washer. Shall we try the dryer now?”

“Yes!” he jumped up and down enthusiastically, clapping his tiny hands together.

I quickly transferred the wet clothes, and Teddy, into the dryer and turned it on. We settled in to watch the monitor again.

Ten minutes passed and nothing happened.

Then fifteen minutes passed with nothing.

After twenty minutes I was beginning to suspect that nothing was going to happen, that the disappearing socks would continue to be an unsolved mystery.

“Mommy! Mommy!” my son tugged my hand. “Look!”

Amazed, we watched in complete silence. The back of the washer fell away, opening up onto a miniature world. Two small creatures reached into the tumbling mass of clothes and pulled out a sock. We could see their little mouths chattering excitedly as they held up the blue sock, part of my favorite pair. The back of the washer closed, blocking our view of the little creatures and their miniature world.

My son and I exchanged a long look. “Um, I think maybe, this should be our secret.” I told him.


Keep the pencil sharpened,
Shell