In search of the perfect pair of socks
On yet another shopping trip to buy new shoes and jeans for the growing boys, I furtively slipped a bag of socks into my cart. I felt a spark of joy course through my veins. New socks -- for me! Guilty pleasure.
As a little girl in San Antonio, where the humidity can hit 95% at Christmastime, I usually shucked my shoes once I got home from school and spent the rest of the day barefoot. My feet got to be so tough, I could walk down a gravel alley and not feel a thing. I could step on the sparkling bits of green CocaCola glass or catch my heel on the scary-looking pop tops we'd make into necklaces and come away with nary a scratch. By the time Mom called us in for our baths, I looked like one of those Dustbowl-era waifs.
Once I got to Oklahoma, where there's actually a winter, I experienced the discomfort of cold feet and the pleasure of a warm pair of socks. I wear my socks until they're paper thin, and when holes finally develop, I knot them up and give them to Bella for a chew toy. There's no better toy for a dog.
Is it just me, or is it impossible to find the perfect pair of socks? The package I picked up from Target said they were for shoe sizes 4-11. What the heck? Can't they make socks a little more specific? I mean, it's only logical that a size 4 foot would belong to a petite person, while a size 11 foot probably belongs to a woman who plays semi-professional basketball. It's ridiculous to expect a package of socks to be one size fits all!
My feet are pretty small. When SO first saw them, unshod, he thought they were freakishly tiny, almost hobbit-like. Most packaged socks end up with the heel of the thing hanging awkwardly from the back of my foot. So usually my joy of socks is marred by the letdown of a bad fit.
I still prefer being barefoot to wearing shoes. But I take better care of my feet. I'm not one to go shoeless to the grocery store or a master's level class. There are limits, for crying out loud. My days of running down a gravel alley are over, however.
Unless I'm wearing a thick pair of knitted wool socks.
2 comments:
Is that a hint? I will make you a pair or two of custom fit socks if you want. It's not like it would take that long or use up much yarn. Trace your feet on a - clean feet - on a piece of paper and I will make some.
You also didn't mention that you 17 pairs of shoes placed at strategic locations all over your house.
Kids get the new Krakatoa action figure! Now with shredded dermal layers and spongy black tween-toe bits. From Wham-O!
I once wrote an essay for something about pop-tops. I must see if I can find that and post it. How I miss those rusty razor-thins slices on my feet.
What a joy these posts are. You are truly gifted storyteller. Never realized what kind of hell you live mutant creature. I'm just glad I range in the average size range. Hey, do you know that I absolutely love wearing men's jeans. Talk about comfort! Instead of being sausaged to death I wear men's relaxed fit jeans and they are perfect. My hips fill them out really well and they don't squeeze me belly! Guess I now know where Storyteller gets her "things around the belly button aversion" from.
PastGrace
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