Holey Socks! Monday is my usual laundry day, and while I was sorting the socks, I realized that a large number of John's socks suddenly have small to alarmingly large holes in the heel! The rule is that any hole bigger than a mothbite warrants immediate expulsion from active circulation (translation: a clean sock is then used to dust, or a dirty sock is tossed out). Well, since I'd just cleaned all these socks, he's allowed to wear them once more before they get pitched. So to make sure these socks go to their final resting place, I took a sharpie and labelled ALL the soon-to-be-trashed socks with "HOLEY SOCK." It is on each foot, and when he wears these socks, the large, bold print is staring at everyone.
When he came home, I showed him what I had done, and how many socks I had labelled (about 6 pairs!!). I asked how come all these holes suddenly showed up and in the same place?? His answer: "I'm a big boy." I'm thinking, "you're not *that* heavy, but even still...I would think more weight is placed on the ball of the foot, and not on the heel...?"
And sure enough, last night after my shower, I went to dump my clothes in the hamper, and lying on the FLOOR next to the hamper (but NOT in the garbage) was yesterday's "HOLEY SOCKS". I immediately said "NO" and John knew exactly what I was talking about without even looking (he was watching hockey). He was like, "no???" with the whimper of a child wanting to keep a stray dog. NO!!
At the end of the day, Zet wins. There is one less pair of HOLEY SOCKS taking up space in the sock drawer and eliciting looks of scorn from sock-nazis like me.
When he came home, I showed him what I had done, and how many socks I had labelled (about 6 pairs!!). I asked how come all these holes suddenly showed up and in the same place?? His answer: "I'm a big boy." I'm thinking, "you're not *that* heavy, but even still...I would think more weight is placed on the ball of the foot, and not on the heel...?"
And sure enough, last night after my shower, I went to dump my clothes in the hamper, and lying on the FLOOR next to the hamper (but NOT in the garbage) was yesterday's "HOLEY SOCKS". I immediately said "NO" and John knew exactly what I was talking about without even looking (he was watching hockey). He was like, "no???" with the whimper of a child wanting to keep a stray dog. NO!!
At the end of the day, Zet wins. There is one less pair of HOLEY SOCKS taking up space in the sock drawer and eliciting looks of scorn from sock-nazis like me.
