Socks

Seems to me like these are the days of expressing strong opinions. And why should I be left out of the excitement of public outspokenness and injustice. Especially when in my very own daily life I have a real issue that may cause my blood to boil and my fist to clench and at the very least causes me to whine out my disapproval to whoever happens to be within earshot. This issue can be dirty and can be so foul it lets out a stench. 

Socks are a wonderful thing - if you are in control. Unfortunately, we are no longer in control. Long-distance hiking long ago taught me that not all socks are equal and if you invest in your socks they will serve you faithfully - keeping you warm, offering comfort, preventing blisters, containing stench and generally looking good. I don't make a habit of having too many pairs of socks but the ones I do own I treat with respect and consideration for the service they provide. But, somehow, I have failed to pass on this set of values to my children. I am haunted by socks. I find them all over my house. I find them in my bed. I find them by the handful in the car. I find my children's socks at other peoples homes. I find my children's socks in the park. I find socks inside other socks and gathering dust under the beds.  No matter how many socks I collect and put in the dirty laundry there are always more. They are the rodents of the clothing world. I only have four children so I just can't seem to figure it out. Why do they take off their socks everywhere they go? How do socks end up in the kitchen? With the lack of care and love the socks have rebelled and are fighting back. Finding a pair has become a daily challenge made all the more challenging by the fact that Tova takes great pleasure in having mismatched and missized socks. If you think I am exaggerating -  Sophia recently got a nice pair of socks. She was so fearful of one getting lost that she took to keeping them under her pillow and not washing them (not a winning combination).  If you are wondering how strong my feelings can really be about socks then please come visit our home or take a drive in our car or play with us in the park and you too will start to develop complex thoughts on the wearable tuber. The only solution I can see to this issue is to move to the tropics and wear only sandals.

Jakob once taught the children an old camp song which they sing endlessly and passionately. I am sharing it with you now as it seems fitting and would be the jingle I would belt out at any protest against the mistreatment of socks by youth:

Black soooocks, 

they never get dirty, 

the longer you wear them

the stronger they get. 

Sooometimes I think I should wash them

but something inside me says

no no not yet

not yet

not yet

The world is so peaceful before my children wake up

Canberra waking up

Monkeys on a mountain

Sophia happy in the leotard she won for her inspirational poster

Canberra at its greenest