The mystery of the baby socks

We all know that socks like to go missing. That's pretty much a truth universally acknowledged - Cecelia Ahern even wrote a book about it (in a kind of roundabout way) - but baby socks - they take this disappearing craic to a whole new level.
Since the girl was born seven months ago I have about approximately 26000 pairs of pink/frilly/patterned socks. By my reckoning she should have the best dressed feet in the Northern Hemisphere and yet this morning can I find a single matching pair?
No.
And I've emptied the washing machine, tumble drier and laundry hamper and hunted under the beds, and the cot and the bags of baby clothes she has already outgrown.
But there are none to be found. And it's a cold day.
And the baby is going to be barefooted - and cold.
And I'm going to have to spend yet more of my hard earned cash on socks.

I have a theory that when we eventually move out of this house - and empty it of all our possessions I will find 26000 socks somewhere having a party and looking at me like "What? We were here all the time, for the love of God woman."