The Sock Bag


My son is graduating high school this year and last night we went to his very last ever water polo banquet.  It was at a fancy country club so we all took it as a good excuse to dress up a little.   When my daughter and I exited our rooms with nearly matching black dresses with white flowers on them, I lost the coin toss and had to change.  She helped me.

We went through dress after dress but each one I put on she would say, “No mom it’s too cougarish.” or “Um nope too sexy.”  Then I put on a tan skirt with an off-white turtle neck and she said, “You look like a grandma, take it off and throw it away.”  So I did.  In the end I went with the tan skirt and a brown blouse that was conservative for going out but was flattering.  Suitable MOM attire.

My son who does his own laundry but not often enough had trouble finding his outfit within the piles of clothes strewn all over his room.  Finally he waltzed into my bathroom as I was putting on my make-up and said, “How’s this?”  He had on a nice shirt, tie and dirty jeans with bare feet.  I said, “Lose the jeans, don’t you have some grey pants?”  He returned about 5 minutes later with his grey pants on but still nothing on his feet.  “I don’t have any shoes mom.”

“What do you mean you don’t have any shoes?  Yes you do, you have black dress shoes.  Go find them.”

He looked at me like I didn’t know the kind of difficult task I was demanding from him.  “Go now, or we’ll be late.”

Back into his room he went searching, and searching, and searching until he finally came back with them on.  I looked down and said, “Lift up your pants.”  He hiked up the waist.  I said, “No at the bottom.”  He lifted his trousers to reveal dirty, white ankle socks.  I looked at him like, are you kidding me?  “Go find some black socks kiddo.”

“But mom I swear I don’t have any.”

“Get the sock bag out then.”  And I pointed into my closet while I curled my hair.

He said, “You mean the bag you’ve had for six years, since I was in 6th grade?  When are we ever gonna put these socks away?”

I said, “I’ve tried before, but there are always new ones without pairs to put back in!”

He found one black dress sock.

We both laughed and said it sounded like an episode from one of our favorite shows, The Middle.

I’ve started calling him Axle even.

Doesn’t everybody have a sock bag for miss-matched socks?

That is how I think of single people sometimes.  Sitting all together in a sock bag waiting for their pair to come along.

I went to the gym the other day and while I was stretching I noticed I had on two different kinds of socks.  At least they were both white.  How embarrassing.  I hoped no one noticed.   Miss-matched socks are no good.  They look wrong, they feel wrong.  They are just wrong.

Maybe one day there will be no more miss-matched socks in the world.  But I highly doubt it.  I have a feeling the bag will always be there.   Which I guess can be a sad thought if you don’t think about the joy that is felt when you finally find the sock that has been missing.

After about 10 minutes of looking my son practically bounced in my room saying, “I found it!  The other sock was right there in my drawer !  HAHA”

Finally the outfit was complete.  We scrambled into the car so we wouldn’t be late.  Dressed to the nines.

One response to “The Sock Bag

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