Socks

Some people name cats or horses "Socks". I supppose if you really dislike an animal that would be an appropriate name. Socks are objects of derision from the beginning. Have you ever seen a baby happy to keep his socks on his feet? The little cherub will kick and squirm until the infernal things are off his feet, and then he gurgles happily.
Socks have played a role in my life as a mother for the past 14 1/2 years. If I had had any idea what they would mean, we would have stayed in WV so we could just be barefoot!
My first son had a habit of crawling to the laundry hamper and dumping it out. He would sort through all of the soiled clothes until he found a nice, chewy sock, and then he set to work on it. He would chew socks and suck on them as if they were Tootsie Roll Pops. It's true. I have pictures.
Then the second child came along. He was a sock sucker too, but also a sock thief. He would steal the dirty socks and hide them for future sock sucking.
Finally came my third and final child, the dog. She would steal socks from the shoe piles and chew on them, pulling with her feet and teeth until holes dappled the socks like sunshine through a winter tree.
Of course, there are the missing socks in the laundry. Many a housewife tells the tale of drying a load of socks and having one left over. My issue doesn't seem to be the dryer, but the washer, or lack of washing. When I wander upstairs to put away something in the attic or to check on the boys, I always find socks strewn on the floor.
"Pick up your socks," I screech. And I suppose that they do because they have some in the dirty laundry each week. But then I return upstairs, and the layer of dust on the socks I find tells me differently. Socks are under the desks, the couch, the beds...there are even pairs of socks stuffed down in the couch cushions as if the feet they adorned scorned their presence so immensely that simple removal could not be a fitting punishment.
As the boys packed a few weeks ago, I finished the laundry, including the socks. Then #2 came downstairs and informed me he didn't have enough pairs of clean socks for the week at camp. I was sure he must have some, since I had just done the laundry. He didn't.
So I did the only thing I could, I offered him my socks. And he took them! Pink toes and heels trim my socks, the only tell-tale sign that they belong to me. In the past year I have had to start marking socks with a fabric marker so that I know the owner of each pair. I spent extra money to buy pink ones for me so that I would be sure that they were mine.
Undeterred, #2 took my pink-toed socks. "I'll just explain what happened and tell the boys I have to wear my Mom's socks."
I just wish he could explain to me what happened.
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My boys both fell asleep this afternoon while doing their school work. The first week of school has been hard on them, I guess. A friend told me her kids asked if they could start school next week. It's too hot to do anything else they complained. They're right. In fact, it is hot enough to melt a mailbox here in our little town. It was in the paper!