Venting can be very healthy if done appropriately. So I am now going to take a few sentences to appropriately vent.

Can someone please tell me why with all of the science, technology, medical professionals, and research facilities, are there more people getting covid now than a year ago??? There are vaccines. There are boosters. Those things were supposed to put an end to all of this.

When the pandemic first started and folks were comparing it to the Spanish Flu of 19whatever, I googled, “How long did the Spanish Flu last?” Because I always need an end point. So after finding out that it lasted about two years, I figured that this pandemic would be either that long or shorter. WRONG.

The only thing that I am grateful for (aside for the most obvious and most important — good health for all of those who I love and even those who I do not love) is that I am no longer a young mother of small children. Kudos to all of you. I cannot even imagine how I would have handled this. I could barely handle it and there wasn’t a pandemic going on!

This is crazy. This feels like it will never end. I look at everyone not wearing a mask like they are the enemy. Someone was coughing behind me and I turned around and said (well, snapped is more accurate), “You know it isn’t ok to cough in public anymore, right?”

Okay. I am now done venting. Thank you for listening and may you all stay healthy and sane. I feel better now.

This week’s topic — you know you are getting old when you discuss with your spouse what your column is going to be about and then neither of you can remember. As I have said before, it is always a comfort when both of us forget. There have been many a conversation when people’s names have just escaped us. Both of us. “You know, the one who married that guy who you went to Israel with that summer? The one whose sister graduated with your brother from high school? The one with the hair?” At least when it is someone famous, you can always try googling things like, “Actor who was in soap opera with really blue eyes” and you will have some images come up. Hopefully, one of those images is the person you were talking about, otherwise you reach a whole new level of frustration. Good times.

Anyway, Husband #1 doesn’t often suggest column topics. He was off from work for New Year (sorry, Sons 1-3, New Year is still considered a holiday for most of the population) and decided to go through his dresser drawers. He came across some nostalgic items — the box from the watch I got him when we got married, some cute pictures of the boys from a time when they wore colors, various unidentifiable keys and socks. 47 single socks. I sent him downstairs to the laundry room where I keep a pile of other single socks and he brought those upstairs.

Yes, Husband #1 had a project. For the next hour or so, he tried matching up the socks. Some of these socks told a story of our boys getting bigger. Little socks had footballs and soccer balls on them, with the words “all-star.” Those were adorable. Then there were a few argyle socks from Husband #1’s childhood. And then there were the socks with the holes in them. Those are easy to get rid of. The cute little “all star” ones not so much, but since they didn’t have matches, they had to go as well. After all was said and done, he was still left with 26 matchless, lonely socks.

That is when he said, “Hey Banj, I think this would make a good column. What happens to all of the missing socks?”

Ah yes, the age old question. What does happen to all of the missing socks? How can I write a humor column about missing socks? Are missing socks funny? Where do they go? How if there are only two of us living in this house do socks still go missing? I have no idea. If any of you have any answers to any of the questions asked in this column, please let me know.

Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck wishes all of her readers a healthy and happy 2022. She is also hoping to know someone born on 2/22/22 because she thinks that would be the coolest birthday.

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