It's all fun and games, until you realize that this sock isn't an ordinary sock. It's the MEAN RED sock. And it just would not cooperate with him. He tried and tried to put this one sock on. He pulled and tugged and hollered at the top of his lungs at this sock. All to no avail.
He wanted it on so badly. Being the kind hearted, loving mother I am, instead of helping, I decided to take pictures. And try to talk him out of wearing this sock, in particular. "We have other socks, honey. Here, look! We even have another pair of RED socks, see?" No amount of explaining from me would change his desire to wear this sock, and this sock alone.It really is my fault he was trying to put this sock on. I haven't cleaned out his sock drawer yet. During the summer, we simply don't wear socks and shoes. It's all about the sandals, flip-flops, bare feet and Crocs around here. So there are two pairs of socks in his drawer that are bitty boy socks. And they're cotton with no elastic or lycra in them. Pretty miserable on the list of comfy, soft, stretchy things, but hey, they filled a need, so they stayed. And then over stayed. Ah, well.
I'm sure his little feet have grown considerably over the summer, judging by the insanely small shoes I tried to cram his feet into on Sunday. Today I planned to take the kids shopping to get their winter shoes. Well, at least the littlest two, since they seem to have grown the most during this last growth spurt. There is one thing I consistently forget when we go shoe shopping. The socks. Every single time. Which is probably why we have these miserable, no-stretch socks in the first place! So I sent the kids to their rooms to retrieve socks from the almighty sock drawers...and thus began the hour long drama of the Mean Red Sock.
Think he'll forgive me? Maybe. Depends on how good his therapist is. Know a good one?
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