Dennis, a single dad still mourning his wife, is baffled when one sock from all his pairs

mysteriously starts vanishing. Frustrated and desperate for answers, he sets up a nanny cam.

What he discovers sets him on a heart-pounding journey through his quiet neighborhood.

I know what you’re thinking: who makes a big deal about missing socks, right? Trust me, if

you’d been in my shoes (pun absolutely intended), you would’ve done the same thing.

Because when you’re a single dad trying to keep it together, sometimes the smallest things can drive you completely up the wall.

It started with just one sock. A plain black one, nothing special. I assumed it got eaten by the dryer, like socks tend to do.

But then another disappeared the next week. And another.

I don’t know about you, but after the fifth missing sock, even the most rational person would start getting suspicious.

“Dylan?” I called out one morning, rifling through the laundry basket for what felt like the hundredth time. “Have you seen my other gray sock?”

My seven-year-old son barely looked up from his cereal. “No, Dad. Maybe it’s playing hide and seek?”

Something in his voice made me pause. Dylan had always been a terrible liar, just like his

mother was. Sarah could never keep a straight face when trying to surprise me, and Dylan

had inherited that same tell — a slight quiver in his voice that gave everything away.

“Are you sure about that, buddy?” I pressed, studying his face.

He shrugged, suddenly very interested in his Cheerios. “Maybe check under the couch?”

I did check under the couch, and everywhere else. Behind the washing machine. In every drawer, basket, and bin in our house. I found $5 in spare change and some missing Lego blocks, but no socks.

The mystery of the vanishing socks was driving me crazy. I even started marking pairs with little dots to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.