• nwyatt

Does the dryer eat your socks?

As you head up the stairs, and look to the right, you will notice a huge laundry hamper full of socks. Some matched, others have not been so lucky to hold on to their partner. In any case, there must be over one hundred pairs of socks in this basket. Some are little from when the boys were babies. Yes, you heard it correctly, some are from when Hezekiah was a baby and yes, he is about to be thirteen years old. I don’t hold on to them because they are precious mementos, this basket has just been with us for a very long time.

When the boys get new socks, they take the place of the old top group. Over the winter break, this cycle was driving me up the wall. Folding weekly and having no matches. Looking at the basket with venom knowing, the sock may have wiggled down to the bottom. Enough was enough, I had to take a stand. I told all my kings to go through the basket and see which socks they wanted to keep. They looked at me like this task was going to be a bother. But, I did not let the phase me, I was on edge from searching the washing machine, the dryer, behind the two, and in between that crevice, you pull apart, and are embarrassed about not deep cleaning.

If you know my kings, you know they didn’t care about the socks. So, I made my move, I began cleaning, and if you were raised with a mother like mine you know that something was about to change, cause once you stop you do not stop I cleaned under the beds, the backs of closets, in the secret hiding spots, and in several little bags, Little collects. I found snacks, and wrappers, clothes, and yes, socks. I did my due diligence. I gave them all one more chance and told them I will be throwing away all the socks if they didn’t take out the ones they needed.

Little ended up grabbing an armful, Hezekiah took maybe five, and Big, well I think he just wanted to see what I would do. So, I dumped all the socks in a bag, along with the clothes that were too small, found lodged behind the bunk beds. Packed up my car and took several bags to the rescue mission. The socks were gone.

Of course, I needed to replace the socks, so I shopped for the best black Friday deals and purchased everyone new socks. Enough for two weeks. The socks arrived, and I did what any other sane person would do and wrapped them up for Christmas. Big was super excited as this is a staple on his list every year #sockhoarder. The boys were excited about theirs as well, I made sure they were easily identifiable and different, so they would not be mixed up.

For three days, I came home to find big searching for his pack of socks. He checked all the Christmas bags, boxes, present workshop (the office), in his junk containers, in the wash room. I watched as he searched, I knew how he was feeling because just weeks before I was searching for a different reason. I observed as the kings had did me. Occasionally, he would ask, “have you seen my socks.” I would answer no and continue what I was doing. I wondered if he already wore the pack and the dryer had already ate them. But, he explained he hadn’t been able to find them, so he couldn’t wear them. On the third day, I came home to find my bedroom in shambles. Big frustrated. Again, he asked if I had seen them. Something told me Hezekiah had the socks. I called for Hezekiah and asked had he seen his dad’s socks, he said no but he had his (I specifically got Hezekiah packs of three which should have been worn). I asked him to go get his socks. As he entered the room, his smile followed, and then a giggle, along with the six pack of socks. Big immediately shouted that Hezekiah was a sock thief. Hezekiah’s laugh changed to a mischievous chuckle. Big chased him through the house. Hezekiah’s laugh grew louder and harder, his face turned red as he tried to catch his breath, as it filled the house it became contagious, as to say I got you. So, the answer to the question does the dryer eat your socks, it’s a capital N and O, it is always the teenager sneaking to wear the best socks in the house. Be aware next time you are missing a sock, it’s probably the kid.

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