I have wanted to do this post for a while. We had our first sock casualty yesterday somewhere between Kearny and Market Streets. He has outgrown all of his infant socks, so I was on a sock finding mission. This is harder than one might think and also puts into perspective my new daily activities. One moment he had two socks on, the next time I looked down, there was just one green and blue roadster sock on his left foot. I should have known this would happen, as it is an hourly occurrence during the day while we are at home.
I feel sorry for that tiny, little socky now drifting its lonely way through Union Square. So in honor of that sock, I have put together a retrospective of our obsession with those two little feet with those 10 little toes and the funny little socks we have come to know and love. (Yes, Sawyer you are allowed to think that your mom is an absolute nutter years from now when you read this for the first time.)
Are you beginning to see the pattern? The right sock is always the first to go. Pjs with feet can’t even escape - or I guess it makes more sense to say that he can escape even from pjs with feet.
This is pretty much how we find him each morning nowadays. One sock on (left) and one sock off…or nearly so (right).
Farewell little roadster sock. We will miss you - especially because you matched the little plaid shorts we all love so much.
