“Stink has no limit.”

I used to think the problem was shoes. Our daughter’s inability to put them on her feet even when they are already halfway on her feet. That is if she can find them in first place. But no, shoes are a mild issue compared to the toxic nature of socks. Shoes are larger, you can trip on them, they are much harder to lose and they are more interesting than socks.

 

This could be in part because we need our shoes more than we need our socks. So we find shoes out of necessity or we don’t get to leave the house. That is motivation. 

 

Socks on the other hand are replaceable. But they have this knack for disappearing at such a rate that you run out before you realize you need more.

 

I propose that we eliminate the use of our eyes to find our kids’ socks, and instead we use the skills of our canine friends, our noses. 

 

This is the only way to combat this weird trend I am experiencing in my home. I see one sock (singular) in one part of the house; then I see another one in another part of the house. They match if I ignore the caked on dirt on one versus the orange juice stain on the other. They are inevitably crumbled up as if someone, or something, chewed on them, ran them over with a scooter, slipped them into the dishwasher, then played soccer with them.

 

All this is nothing new to parents, but what is new to me is where I am finding them. Please explain this series of sock events that are in sequence

Yes, this is all after I picked them up and put them back together, but like a drunk Humpty Dumpty, they fall off the sock wall, split into two pieces, run around screaming, and collapse, one in Connecticut, one in New Hampshire. 

 

Ironically, I am going to blame an excursion to the beach that started off this expectation that our children will never have to put on socks again. A taste of the barefoot life now shifts the question of your life from “where are your shoes?” to “where are your socks?” THEN “where are you shoes?” By the time you reach age 100, you have lost 18 months of your life, asking for socks and shoes.

 

Is it worth it? Probably not. They will eventually figure it out when they are barefoot and in baseball spikes, or by the time they are in college and get kicked out of the convenience store for being shoeless and sockless. But by then, you have purchased 15 dozen bags of new socks.

 

So, I imagine the best thing to do is to let it go and provide the alternative slippers or flip flops and let the dog or toddling infant find the missing foot-fabric. Seems easy enough, until you start asking “where are your flip flops?” or you start a company making dog sock treats.