If the aliens ever find my socks

What is it with socks? No matter how many pairs I buy I can never find two that belong together. Each morning i am to be found performing the same desperate routine: find sock, search for similar, pull out likely candidate, compare, contrast, abandon, repeat. And repeat. And repeat.*

An alien archaeologist, on discovering them, would probably conclude that I had made a special collection of odd socks (‘possibly for ritual purposes’) or else that ‘the inhabitant of this dwelling was almost certainly one-legged.’

As indeed I sometimes wish I was. Or at least ‘odd-legged.’

* And yes, I do know it’s my own fault for not pairing them up before I put them away.