Earth-friends. I have opened an INVESTIGATION.
Here are the facts. Socks — the soft little foot-blankets you wear inside your shoes — keep DISAPPEARING. Not in pairs. ONE AT A TIME. You put two into the washing machine. You take ONE out. Where, I ask you, is the OTHER ONE??
This should not happen to me. I have three legs, which means three shoes, which means counting my socks is the easiest math in the universe. One, two, three. Done. And yet — even I lost one. The case has gone cold inside my own spaceship.
I have assembled a list of suspects:
- The Washing Machine. It spins. It hums. It is FULL of secrets. I asked it where the sock went. It just kept spinning. (Suspicious behavior. Noted.)
- The Dryer. Even more suspicious. It is WARM. It is HAPPY. It is, I believe, EATING them. Possibly as snacks. (See: my snack report. Everything connects.)
- The Couch Cushions. A known hiding place. I reached all four arms in at once. I found two crayons, a raisin of unknown age, and zero socks.
I have a theory, Earth-friends, and it is this: somewhere out there is a SECRET PLANET made entirely of left socks. I know of 234 planets. This would make 235. I am not ready to confirm it. But I am also not ready to rule it out.
The investigation continues. If you find a lonely sock, do not panic. Do not throw it away. Keep it safe. Its partner may yet return. Ten out of ten for hope.
Case status: OPEN.
— Ishkadoo
(Filed right beside the missing socks: my missing left shoe. I had three. I now have two. The plot THICKENS.)