squirrely socks.

christian likes to be organized.

he also likes projects. when we moved last year he busily got to work while i retreated to my bed dealing with constant morning sickness. one of the first things he tackled was our garage. he researched shelving units. compared prices and stability. bought dozens of rubbermaid tubs and got to work.

one month later my little sister arrived to spend part of her summer with us. as i unloaded her luggage she surveyed christian’s meticulous work. bin neatly stacked upon bin. each brandishing a large white label with christian’s handwriting stating the contents.

robin’s mission.
christian’s childhood.
pez.
golf balls.
christian’s mission.
law school books.
baseball cards.
christian’s childhood.

“wow!” she said, “if you guys ever get robbed the robber will know what tubs to take!”

and i guess it’s true. one day some law book reading, pez collecting, baseball card crazed, golf ball wielding robber just may wander in to our garage. although i think he may be more inclined to ride off on one of our bicycles with christian’s golf clubs and skiis.

christian’s organization lends to cleanliness. in five years of marriage i may have only cleaned one toilet bowl. he keeps our bathrooms spic ‘n span.

he is also very good at returning discarded clothing to its proper place in the moment of disrobing. i on the other hand receive constant reminders about hanging my skirts back up and putting my sweaters away. my clothes lay in a jumbled pile on the closet floor until saturday when i hang everything back up again.

so it is funny that for all of his tidiness his socks never seem to make it to the hamper. everything else is nicely folded away. but his socks? well they lay, strewn precariously on the bedroom floor. sometimes they lay crumpled on the cold bathroom tile mere inches from the hamper.

i remember a woman complaining once about her biggest pet peeve. it was the habit she could not live with. it was the straw that ultimately broke her marital camel’s back.

her husband would not put his socks in the hamper.

maybe those abandoned socks were hard to live with, but i doubt that was the root of her issues.

i have taken a different attitude towards christian’s squirrely socks. they amuse me tremendously. for all of his preciseness, those socks represent a slacking that i love.

so i will continue to smile at those cast off socks, pick them up, and reunite them with their dirty little friends.

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