Showing posts with label socks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label socks. Show all posts

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Joe Boxer Made Sock Sorting Easier

I’ve seen three socks and five socks in a package entitled “mix and match” I remember purchasing two five packs of the same prints so that I would have mates.  Selling socks by odd number seemed more foreign to me than mismatching.

         They actually work out perfectly for Jenna, who doesn’t pay much attention to whether they are even the same length or color.  I think she started a fad when she wore her mismated owl socks that I mention in this post

         So I’m sorting socks this morning and since the Joe Boxer socks can be mated with whatever I decide that I can mismatch whatever other socks I can’t find mates for.  I tried to make mine match but took all the left over printed socks and mated them by length and didn’t worry about the print.  I put all of the foreign pairs into Jenna’s drawer.  And she’ll not even care.

         She decided to turn the mismatched solids into sock puppets.  I caught her drawing on an outgrown sock (very white and clean) with a marker and decided to give her most of the solid ones I’ve had around for some time but have still not found mates for.  

She had quite the creative and artistic mind.  When she was three, she decided to make knee and elbow pads out of socks.  Her mind never stops thinking of ways to invent and recycle.  I LOVE my little girl.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Another Story by Jenna

Her last day of school was Thursday.  But yesterday she wanted to PLAY school - with real tests and real homework.  She wrote a story about aliens eating her homework.  I like the story this story that I found.  She wrote it last year.

The Shoe and the Sock
By Jenna

One short evening sock and shoe met. 
Sock asked, “Are you shoe?”
Shoe said the same.
Sock said, “Why do I always have to smell you?  You smell!”
And shoe said, “Well you smell, too.”
“I do NOT!!” said sock, “You do.”
“No, you do.”
“Getting angry won’t help,” said sock
They decided to switch places. They said they would switch for a week. For a while they were living the life.
Sock had become more popular as no one had ever seen her as a shoe before
Shoe started becoming more popular as no one had ever seen a shoe worn under a sock before.
Then things started going wrong.  Sock started getting holes and shoe felt  uncomfortable with a sock covering him all the time.  And they just didn’t know what to do.

Just then pillow said, “Whatchya doin’?”
Shoe said, “Not much.”
Sock said, “Trying to figure out something.”
“Maybe I could help,” said Pillow. “I’ve seen you two trying to be each other and from what I can see neither one of you is happy about the switch.  Everything has a purpose. Sock, you’re a sock because we need our feet warm.”
“And that’s another thing, ” said Sock.  “Feet stink.”

Pillow continued, “Shoe, you’re a shoe because sock needs something to keep her warm. But more importantly you prevent sock from getting dirty and worn out so quickly”
“You are warm.” Sock admitted.

Pillow said, “The girl who sleeps on me is warm, too.  I like when she rests her head on me.”
Blanket said, “I would like the girl to rest her head on me.  Would you like to switch places?”
Pillow asked, “Have you not heard me explain to sock and shoe that everything has its purpose.  We are all designed to provide comfort to the girl.  Mine is for her to rest her head upon – or on occasion she has pressed me against her back and the wall.  Blanket, you provide warmth for her when she is cold.  You are much larger than me.  I could never cover her the way that you do.  Just as sock can never fully cover shoe.  It’s her purpose to keep the girl’s feet covered and protect her feet from direct contact with the shoe.” 


Monday, March 19, 2012

Mismatched Socks

          I can remember when my mom gave each of us a bunch of safety pins for us to use on our socks in order to keep them together when going through the wash.  I can’t even imagine what would happen if I asked Jenna to pin her socks together.  She can barely get them off her feet.  Sometimes they make it to the hamper.  More often they don’t.

          Sometimes she will put on socks that DON’T match.  A blue sock with a red sock, a dress sock with a causual sock.  A long sock with a short sock.  She doesn’t care.  Whatever’s convenient.

          The other day she left the house with an orange sock and a white sock – but they both had owls on them.  (I think she might be starting a trend, actually) and I spent the day searching for mates.  What a chore.

          Later on Roland and I chatted on facebook:

Me:    got your message. I was in the other room sorting socks. My phone was not in my pocket as I had predicted. It was on the bed.
R:       miss you
M:      sorting socks is BORING
R:       What happened to "whistle while you work?"  Or Mary Poppins's make a game of it?
M:      the wind knocked it out of me. Mary Poppins is welcome to sort my socks. I'd like to nap
R:       We just never see Mary Poppins or Snow White sort socks.
M:      my profile picture makes me look more alert than I actually am; I don't think the dwarves wore socks
R:       you look beautiful
M:      thank you. I love you. You look very handsome yourself
R:       that’s because I am wearing MATCHING sox.