Every household has one: that mysterious Bermuda Triangle of laundry where socks go to disappear. You begin with two. You end with one. It’s as consistent as gravity and just as confusing. Over time, these lonely socks gather in drawers like lost souls waiting to be reunited.

Last weekend, I decided to confront this phenomenon head-on. Inspired by the minimalist whisperings of Marie Kondo and the grim determination of Sherlock Holmes, I launched Operation Sock Storm. My mission: locate every stray sock in the house and reunite as many pairs as possible.

Armed with coffee, a Spotify playlist, and a laundry basket full of singles, I descended into the sock chaos. I pulled couches apart. I scoured under beds. I even checked behind the washing machine, where I found three dust bunnies, a bobby pin from 2017, and a very suspicious-looking Lego man missing an arm.

Over the course of five hours, I discovered many things: