You find the most interesting things on the Internet. Surely everyone has experienced inexplicable sock loss at some point in their lives. Indeed, from the ages of 4-6, I myself had a sneaking suspicion that a tiny gremlin with a footwear fetish lived in our dryer.

Which he may well have done. It was an odd household.

But here, by way of Stephen Fry’s Twitter stream, comes a scientific study of the lost sock phenomenon:

Odd socks: a combinatoric example of Murphy’s Law

(Mathematics Today March-April 1996 39-41)

Abstract: We use combinatorics to examine the notorious ubiquity of unmatched – “odd” – socks. Using a random-loss model we show that (a) the disappearance of socks is indeed heavily biased towards the accumulation of odd socks; (b) random loss of just half the socks typically cuts the number of complete pairs left by 75 per cent; (c) the problem of finding matching pairs remains formidable, even after removal of all the odd socks. We suggest a remedy based on two varieties of socks.

Indeed, this is a coping strategy I’ve adopted spontaneously in response to a world which insists on sock monogamy: I have two kinds of socks, Good Socks and Tube Socks. Since all the Good Socks are black and all the Tube Socks are white, even if I lose one I hardly notice.

Listen, I had this idea long before the Obamas (shaking fist in the air, “Oooobaaamaaaas!”) went ahead and stole my thunder.

I had pitched the idea to my husband, preparing for a really hard sell. But surprisingly, he had been thinking the exact same thing. Great minds think alike, I tell you.

You see, the Munchkin has all the toys a child could ever play with. And he will be getting many more when Christmas comes, even with the seasonal culling that is necessary to keep the house from being completely taken over by Legos and K’nex and various musical instruments in differing states of disrepair and stringless-ness.

The way my family celebrates the holidays, Christmas morning here with the three of us is a bit anticlimactic. He’s already opened gifts the day before from three different sets of relatives, and so the paltry offering from us Santa seems to be merely an afterthought. Like he forgot that a few presents for the Munchkin were at the bottom of the sleigh and just tossed them of down the chimney on the way back to the North Pole. There is no way we are going to try and match the number of gifts. Well we could, but we would go bankrupt trying.

So, dare I say it, I think we are actually getting my son a dog.

I don’t necessarily want a puppy, nor a purebred. It has to be a dog that is on the smaller side (but lordy, not a yappy toy breed) easy to care for, needs minimal professional grooming, has a great disposition and is good with kids. Being able to pick up after itself and clean the kitchen would be a big bonus as well.

Yes, I know it’s a lot of work. Yes, I know I’ll be doing most of it. Yes, I know it’s expensive. Yes, it will be from a shelter, we have someone we know on the “inside” who can get us any type of dog we want.

But you can still call me crazy. I totally understand.

Oh. Joy.

Now every four-year-old girl’s dream can come true: she and her poor, brow-beaten Mommy can dress just like that icon of chic and sophistication, that lady of a certain age, Barbara Millicent Roberts.

Yes, it’s Barbie’s 50th birthday and to celebrate, like many another rich woman at midlife, she’s decided to turn designer, although with what the harsher among us might judge to be perhaps less success than, say, Carolina Herrera.

From the Guardian (and one can hardly wait to hear what their resident fashion harpy thinks of the collection):

The 50th birthday of Barbie, the iconic fashion doll, is to be celebrated next year with the launch of a designer clothing brand for humans, complete with a cosmetics range and a catwalk show at New York fashion week…

Wang is creating a wedding gown for the special birthday collection – one version for real women and a mini-version for Barbie – while Scott has designed a high-end capsule wardrobe.

I don’t know about you, but if I woke up and found I had a wardrobe comparable to Barbie’s, I’d need a few capsules of something, for sure.