This is a typical phone conversation between me and my husband in the morning, when I’m on my way into work and he’s getting our 17-month-old dressed for daycare:
Him: “Why do none of our children have socks?”
Me: “That’s just not true. They all have socks.”
Him: “Where are these soc
ks? There are none in Charlie’s drawer.”
Me: “Just because they are not in a drawer does not mean they do not exist.”
Giving me a I-don’t-have-time-for-your-cryptic-sarcasm sigh: “Come on, help me out.”
Me: “Here is a giant hint: There is a huge white laundry basket smack in the middle of his room. It is filled with folded, clean clothes. Including socks.”
Him: “I see the basket. I don’t see any socks.”
I believe him. I know he is literally looking at the basket, and not seeing socks sitting on top. I also know that socks have a tendency, when they are folded into tiny little balls, to sink to the bottom. Where you can find them. If you stick your hands in there and really look.
At this point I usually just give up, though, and tell him to find a plain pair of white socks belonging to one of our other, older children, and use those instead.
Today he sent our son to daycare wearing a long-sleeved shirt, long pants and swim sandals.
It’s…a look.