My Most Unrealistic New Year’s Resolution Ever

     It’s possible I’m setting myself up for failure.

     It is true.

     After all, don’t all those psychologist types recommend you keep it realistic on New Year’s resolutions?

     I don’t care.

     I’m going big.

     Shooting for the stars.

     Or rather, for the socks.

     Yes, socks.

     My New Year’s resolution is simply socks.

     I want to be able to open that vestibule I call my “sock drawer” and find one matching pair.


     I want to see at least one pair of socks make it from my feet, through the laundry and back to that drawer.

My resolution dream image: a drawer of matching socks.

My resolution dream image: a drawer of matching socks.


     I know.

     Now, we’ve crossed into crazy talk, you and I.

     Dear Reader, can you solve this, one of life’s greatest mysteries?

     Where does that other sock go?     

     Right now in my drawer, you’ll find one white sock, one beige one, a black one.

     Oh, and a snagged pair of panty hose.

Story of my sock life. Not a single matching pair.

Story of my sock life. Not a single matching pair.

     I’ve never been terribly talented in the keeping socks together department.

     Marriage and motherhood has taken this to a whole other level.

     One kid needs to borrow a pair of black knee socks to keep in line with her school uniform.

     The other needs a pair of my favorite running socks for gym class.

     “Blame the laundress!” I yell when they say they have no socks.

     Oh, that’s right.

     That would be me.

     For a moment I thought I fixed the pilfering by having the kids do their own laundry.

     That only meant my borrowed socks were gone forever, swallowed up by kids’ laundry baskets and messy rooms.

     Just this week, I was booked to go interview a big time ambassador.    

     Once I got everyone out the door to school and work, I had about 46 seconds to run around and get myself ready.    

Of course, not a single matching pair was to be found.

     So, I headed to the land of last resort.

     Husband’s sock drawer.

     There I was up on stage in front of a luncheon packed with powerful, influential women, interviewing this ambassador who has dined with presidents.

Getting ready to interview Israeli Ambassador Judith Shorer. Don't look at my socks, please.

Getting ready to interview Israeli Ambassador Judith Shorer. Don’t look at my socks, please.

     As I’m asking her questions on world peace, national security, women in the diplomatic corps, I’m thinking, “Surely, I’m the only woman in this room wearing men’s socks.”

     I’m not saying everything in my life has to be matchy-matchy.

     My family doesn’t match.

     Not a single one of us looks like the other.

     Three last names between us.

     We are quite the scene going through customs when we travel internationally.

     Rather, when an awful news story or bad health or losing a job can shake your sense of security on a daily basis, knowing you can rely on certain things helps.

     It just does.

     Might sound weird to some, but I think you know what I mean.

     This week, you’re no doubt opening holiday cards with best wishes of health, happiness, success in new year.

     I’m going one bigger.

     Here’s to socks in 2016.

     Matching socks.

     For you.

     And for me.

Please catch my newspaper column each week in the Atlanta Journal Constitution, The Dayton Daily News and other Cox Newspapers around the country.



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My Most Unrealistic New Year’s Resolution Ever

by DarynKagan time to read: 2 min
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