April 5, 2011 by Marj Hatzell
You’d think by now I’d know my kids.
I get them. I really do. From the correct temperature to serve their dinners to the fact that their clothing has to be 100% cotton, I get them. I understand how many decibels will set them off and cause them to fling themselves to the ground screaming and clapping their hands over their ears. I get them.
And two weeks ago I bought them socks. And screwed up
Normally, I check the content of everything I buy. Shopping with me is SO MUCH FUN because I read every label of every article of clothing and every box of pasta to make sure I don’t purchase something that my kids cannot have or do not like. And last week I bought socks. And I didn’t check.
I saw these cute little stripey socks and pirate socks and happy faces and baseballs and you name it. And I bought them for Bugaboo and sent him to school and for a few days he came home with socks on his hands (he plays this game we call “socko” where he puts them on his hands and acts like they are hand puppets). Or one sock. Or one sock completely shredded and holey and torn apart. Or both socks completely shredded and holey and torn apart…you see where this is going, don’t you?
See, my kids go through socks like kleenex. I buy them often. Very often. I bought the cutesy socks because I figured, “hey! It’s spring! We’ll see them because he’ll be wearing more shorts and sandals and stuff!” Buying cutesy socks is DUMB DUMB DUMB. Cutesy socks are dumb. They are crappity crap.
After the school asked me to stop sending him to school in socks for a few days, because they were becoming an awful distraction, I was at a loss. No socks? Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot? What is the deal with the socks this week, Bugaboo? What gives?
Then Bug Boy didn’t have socks one morning and I handed him one of Bugaboo’s cutesy stripey pairs. He put them on his feet, screamed as though he was in pain and fling the socks across the room. He said, “those socks feel wrong.”
Oh Momma, what have you done?
Saturday I went to the store to buy MORE SOCKS since we had three pairs that had less than two holes. And no socks without holes. Follow that? HOLEY SOCKS. Really holey socks. Not to be confused with the holy socks we got that one time my mom brought back holy water from one of her many religious pilgrimages and Bugaboo stimmed it all over the house. As a matter of fact, our whole house is holy. Ahem. Anyways.
So I went Saturday to the store, went to the socks aisle and looked at socks. And suddenly it dawned on me. Cotton content? HELLO? ANYONE? BUELLER? I flipped over the packages. Cutesy stripey happy socks? 0% cotton. Plain, white socks? Mostly cotton except for spandex in the cuff. Sigh.
Saturday I bought more plain, white, boring socks. And now everyone is happy with their plain, white, boring socks.
Until the next time I forget to check and they refuse to wear something. Sensory Processing Disorder much?