When I was in 6th grade, my English teacher (Mr. Harris-such a great teacher that I STILL remember his name over a dozen years later [which is rather epic considering I can’t remember the names of one or two people I roomed with in college]) gave an assignment in which each student was given a word that he had made up, and we had to come up with an extended definition.
My word was Zigleporph.
According to my sixth grade mind , a Zigleporph is a tiny creature who lives in the coat closet hangars.
When the hangars fall, zigleporphs sneak out and feast on shoe laces and then creep into the dryer to eat socks. Just one sock is enough to fill them, which is why my socks have a higher divorce rate than Most Hollywood couples.
So there you go, Claudette, now you know where socks go when they disappear.
zero-to-hero Assignment 12