The Great Sock Conspiracy

Socks are one of those necessary but dull items that we buy periodically when our old ones get holes or we need a new color or style. Most people don't get riled up about socks--until they start disappearing into the great black hole of laundry limbo.
Socks come out of the package in pairs, but somewhere during their construction, sock DNA is programmed so that one in each pair will vanish. Where do these socks go??! Some fall behind the washing machine or dryer, to be discovered months later in a dry, hardened ball. The corners of fitted sheets are favorite hiding places, as are sleeves, pant legs, and hoods. I've found them stuffed down in the couch cushions, behind the dresser, moldering in a gym bag, and lying in the driveway. Some get left at the cabin, at Grandma's and in motel rooms. Others simply vaporize into the ozone layer.
After Erica left for college, I completely cleaned her room. There were a dozen or more socks under the bed and stuck between the mattress and bed frame. Katie left a trail of mismatched socks strewn through the Elk Mound house at the end of the summer when she went back to school. Over the weekend I was looking for something under the seats in Fred's car, and I came up with one of his black dress socks. Its mate has been sitting on the dresser for months. Obviously my family thinks socks grow on trees--or know that Mom will buy new ones to replace those they have lost due to careless sock management.
Being the packrat that I am, I don't throw out any sock singletons. There is a bag of friendless footwear in my closet, some which have been mateless since the turn of the century or longer. You never know when a prodigal knee-hi might return.
Sometimes I will pair white socks together even if they aren't the same kind. A white sock is a white sock, after all, and if you're wearing long pants, who can tell? I have learned, though, that Fred gets annoyed if I match one of his black socks with a navy one--though I've never done that on purpose. Really.
I propose that sock manufacturers include three socks in a set--a pair and a spare. Or maybe communities could have sock swap days where we all bring in our odd man out socks and look for potential mates. Speed dating for footwear...I like it.