Sock Wisdom

If you haven't already guessed from the title, this post is about socks.

I know.  You're all sitting there staring at your computers and wondering if I've lost my mind, right?  You're probably asking yourselves, How could an entire blog post be all about socks? Maybe in the lives of normal bloggers it would be considered stupid, dull, impractical or just plain impossible to make an entire post on this topic but, as you know, normal is not something we do well around here.  I gave up on normal a long time ago.   That having been said, I don't think I'm any worse off for it. In fact, with an open mind, a good sense of humour and plenty of patience, the abandonment of normalcy can sometimes be fun. So...on to today's post!

I live with aliens.

This means there are moments in my life that are just plain weird.

I suppose everybody has odd moments but, measured on the weird-o-meter, I'm pretty sure a normal person's odd moment wouldn't come anywhere close to the weirdness I cope with on a fairly regular basis.  Mind you, not all the weirdness in my life is horrible.   Most of it isn't all that bad at all.   It's usually awkward and sometimes frustrating or embarrassing, but mostly it's amusing and cute.

Take this morning at breakfast, for example, when Sini paused in her systematic attack on some unsuspecting limes to announce, "Tyler, I have decided to wear socks."

Sini is somewhere in the neighbourhood of thirty-five 'Earth years' old and, to my knowledge, the one and only time in her life that she's ever worn stockings was on our wedding day.   She hates covering her feet with anything and it's all I can do to convince her to wear shoes when we go out.   Why she should suddenly feel the need to wear socks was a mystery, albeit one I was not willing to explore at seven o'clock in the morning on the day of a law school exam. (My last one for this semester, by the way!)

As you might well imagine, Sini's statement was greeted by some poorly concealed snickering around the table from our roommates.  But, did I laugh?   Of course not.   Maybe I was in dutiful husband mode, or maybe I've just become immune to off-the-wall statements like this, because my response was, "Okay.  Do you want to borrow a pair of mine or get your own?"

More laughter erupted at that point and nobody seemed to be bothered trying to hide it that time.

Under the table, Sini curled her ridiculously dextrous toes around my woefully average ones and said, "Do you have any pink socks?"

"Uh...probably not," I said.

"Then I will get my own." 

"Okay," I said, and went back to eating my oatmeal.

Yep...handled that like a pro.

What I didn't handle like a pro was the second act of Sini's sock drama.   When I got home from school at lunchtime, I was ready to celebrate the successful completion of my first semester of law school.  The last situation I expected to face was the absence of anyone greeting me at the door.   Sini usually pounces on me the moment I come in, and the fact that she wasn't there sent a little shiver of worry through me. 

I made my way to the living room where I found Pax playing with Skyla, Jack and Cleo.  The game seemed to involve tossing the small throw cushions from the sofa into an empty laundry basket.  I discovered this when I walked into the room, nearly tripped over the clothes basket and then got hit by a flying cushion.

"Jack did it!" was Pax's immediate disclaimer, which was followed by giggling and, "Sorry. It sort of my fault, too." 

Pax explained the game to me while I allowed myself to be mobbed by toddlers.  With Skyla in one arm, Jack in the other and Cleo clinging onto my leg, I shuffled over to our pillow-less couch.  I deposited my hangers-on, and said to Pax, "Where's everybody?"

"Mostly at work or school," he said.  "Rommie went to the store and she take Lucy with her.  I baby sitting."

"You're baby sitting by yourself?"

"Yes."

"Where's Sini?  And Hunter?"

"Hunter sleeping," Pax said.  "She sleep all day long."

"What about Sini?  She's here, right?"

'Yes."

"Is she okay?"

"Sini having a moment," he said.  "That what Rommie said." 

"Dare I ask what kind of moment she's having?"

"A long one."

"Okay," I said. "Do you think you can tell me about it?"

"Better if Sini tell you about it," Pax said. "But I think it about socks.  It all about socks."

"Socks."

"Yes.  Sini go shopping this morning and she say she want to buy socks and I ask if I can come and buy socks too.   We go to the mall and I pick out rainbow socks.  Rainbow!  But, Sini not buy anything, and she the one who want socks in the first place."

"And now she's...having a moment?"

"She very confused.  She cry all the way home."

"About socks?"

Pax laid a hand on my forearm and said very gravely, "Socks very serious business, Tyler.  First pair of socks change your life forever.  You get socks, and it like you become a real Earth person."  

"I see."  Apparently I've underestimated the importance of socks all these years.  I had no idea they were such a badge of honour.  I said, "So, where's Sini now?"

"In our room."

"Okay,  I'm going upstairs to check on her.  You can keep on baby sitting until I come down."

"Okay," Pax agreed. "I pretty good at this, you know."

"Baby sitting?"

"Yes.  I almost a expert now."

I grinned. "Really?  Have you changed any diapers yet, or tried to give Jack his vitamins?"

"No," Pax said. "That not in my job description."

I didn't have to ask him where he'd picked up that line.  That's classic Rommie, and ranks right up there with, 'Mommy can't hear you right now because she's taking a mental vacation'  and 'Do I look like the lost and found department to you?'   I'm waiting for the day when Pax decides to try out, 'You can wash your own dirty laundry. I'm not your mother.' 

"I'm not even going to ask what's in your job description," I said.

Skyla had been sitting on my lap during most of my conversation with Pax.  I tried to pass her to him so I could get up from the couch, but she didn't seem too happy about it.  She started to whine, and she clung to me like I was trying to hand her over to a scary stranger.   When I tried to peel her little fingers off my sweater she started to whimper and say repeatedly, "No, Daddy! Noooo!"

"Skyla, it's okay," I said.  "You can play with Pax.  Daddy will be back in a few minutes."   

Skyla evidently wasn't buying into the plan, because all I got in response to that was another wail of, "No!"

"She hungry," Pax informed me.

"You can feel that?"

"How else could I know she hungry?" he said. "She not tell me with words, like grown-up people."  

"Maybe you are getting to be an expert," I said.  "You can give her some crackers for now, and please watch her while she eats them.  I'll make lunch for you guys when I come back, okay?"

"Can we have noodles?"

"Yes, but you're going to eat fruit or vegetables too.  You can't live on instant noodles, you know."

"Banana!" Pax decided.

"I'm going to make a salad for you and me and Sini," I said.  "You can have a banana for dessert, if you want.  There might be some kiwi fruit left, too."

"I going to have that with ice cream, okay?  With raisins and maybe some mint candy and almonds and peanuts."

"We'll discuss that after lunch," I said.   I made one last attempt to give Skyla to him, and finally succeeded.  "If Jack and Cleo are hungry, they can have a few crackers too.   I'll be right back." 

"Okay," Pax said.

I made a hasty exit from the living room before Skyla got a chance to change her mind about letting her big brother take her from my arms.  I wasn't prepared to handle both my girls having what Pax euphemistically referred to as a 'moment'.   I had a feeling that discovering the nature of Sini's 'moment' and dealing with that would be enough amateur psychology for me for one day.

When I reached our room, I found the door closed.   For a half-second I debated whether or not I should knock.   In the end I concluded that it's my room too, so I didn't really have to.   I did, however,  push the door open a few centimeters and call out Sini's name before I actually walked in.

She was lying on our bed, curled into as tight a ball as she could manage.   I discovered that when I climbed onto the bed next to her and tried to give her a hug.   For my effort, I was rewarded with, "I do not want to cuddle."

"No 'hello' or 'congratulations on surviving your first semester of law school'?" I said.

"Hello.  Congratulations."

"Thanks....I think."

"I am sorry," she said.  "I have had a very bad day so far."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"No better or worse than usual," she said.

I sat up since cuddling was off the agenda and it didn't appear that Sini even intended to turn over and face me.   I said, "Do you want to tell me why you're having a bad day, then?  Maybe there's something I can do."

"I do not want to talk about it."

I didn't need to be an empath to know she didn't mean that.  When Sini doesn't want to discuss something, she's usually far more adamant.  She'll often tell me to shut up and go away until she's ready to talk about whatever is on her mind.  Not in those exact words, of course, but the message is usually pretty clear.   In my experience, when she simply says she doesn't want to talk about it, I can generally interpret that to mean she doesn't know how to talk about it or she doesn't know where to start.

I said, "Pax told me that you went shopping this morning."

She was quiet for a long time, but finally she said, "Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she said.  "That is the problem."

"You're confusing me," I said.  "Pax said you were going to buy socks."

"Yes."

"But you didn't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

There was another long pause.  Then she said, "I could not decide!" and began to cry. 

I admit, I was torn between feeling sorry for her and seriously wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  I struggled with that for several seconds and, as desperate as I was to keep my laughter in check, it was ultimately the successful combatant in my emotional battle.    Somehow I managed, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.

"I know this isn't funny to you, but...but....you couldn't decide?  I thought you wanted pink socks."

"I did, but there were so many different pink ones!  And purple!  And...and rainbow!"   

I'd like to tell you this was the point at which I tried to console her but, I'm sorry to say, it was not.  I laughed even more than I did before.   I know, I'm probably a terrible person for finding amusement in all this, but I just could not figure out what was so tragic about not being able to choose a pair of socks.  To me, her distress seemed all out of proportion to the circumstances.

When I caught my breath, I said once again, "I'm sorry, Sini."

"You do not care about this, do you?"

"I do," I said.  "Honestly, I'm sorry you're upset, but I don't understand why." 

"I wanted socks,"  she said miserably, "but I did not get any." 

"Because you couldn't make up your mind about which ones to get."

"Yes."

"Why did you want socks in the first place?"

"To cover my feet."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because...because I do not want to look at them," she said.  "They are swollen and ugly.   I thought pretty socks would make me feel better."

"Oh," I said, and it all began to make sense suddenly.  "Let me see your feet."

"Why?"

"Humour me," I said.  I patted my knee.  "Come on.  Can you put your feet here?"

"I think so," she said.

It took a bit of coordination, but eventually we settled into a position that was good for both of us.  I sat near the end of the bed, and Sini was reclining on a bunch of pillows with her feet resting on another pillow that I'd placed across my knees.   It's remarkable how the number of pillows on our bed seems to be multiplying in a direct relationship to the progress of Sini's pregnancy.  We started out with two pillows, and I think we're up to seven now.  We'll probably have ten by March.   I'm not sure where they're all coming from, to be honest, but as long as they're helping to keep Sini comfortable I'm not going to question it.

I could tell that her feet were swollen as soon as I touched them, and I wondered if she might be in pain.  It was one of those times when I wished I shared her empathic sense.   She says she can always tell when I'm in pain, and she always seems to know exactly what I need to make me feel better.   I wanted to be able to do the same for her. 

I stroked the top of her right foot.  "Who told you that your feet are ugly, anyway?"

"No one.  I think they are."

"I don't think so," I said.  "At least you haven't got gross veins popping up like I do.  If we're talking about ugly feet, I have ugly feet.  Yours are lovely."

"You mean that."

"You'd know if I didn't," I said.

"Yes," she agreed.  "But, how can you think they are beautiful?"

"Because they're yours," I told her.  "I know you're not too thrilled about them being swollen, but you've got to consider the reason for it."

"It is because of our child."

"I could never think of that without thinking everything about you right now is beautiful."  

"Even my swollen feet?"

"Even those," I said.  "I'm sorry I laughed about the socks."

"It is okay.  I suppose it is funny for you."

"Yeah, a little," I said.  "You hate socks. It was kind of bizarre how obsessed you seemed about them today."

"I also thought I hated my feet."

"But you don't now?"

"Perhaps I still do a little," she said. "But, I feel better." 

"I'm glad," I said.  "I think I know something else that might make you feel better."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I'll show you."

 Carefully, I began to massage one of her feet.  This was something I'd never done before and I had no clue if I was doing it right, or even if there is a right way.   Correct or not, it must've worked for Sini because after several seconds of my attention she made one of her non-word sounds; a low growl in her throat, almost like a purr.   I'd never heard her use that one in any context except... Well, I probably don't need to spell it out for you guys, do I?

She said, "Tyler, this is...." but evidently could not think of an English word she found appropriate.  She said something in Erisan.

"I guess that means you like it?" I said.

"Yes, very much," she said, and gave me another little growl. "It is very..." that same Erisan word again.

I grinned and said, "If you think this is foreplay, you'd better tell me now." 

"No, I do not think that, but It is...super awesome," she said. "Why did you not do this before?"

"I never thought of it," I said.  "You know, if your feet are swollen like this every day, you really should stay off them as much as you can."

"Lately, they are swollen like this every day," she said.  She sighed. "I really do not like looking at them."

"Do you still want socks?"

"I do not know.  Maybe."

"I'll tell you what," I said. "You can borrow some from me and try them out.  If you still want your own after that, I'll come shopping with you and help you pick out a couple of pairs, okay?"

"How will you help me?"

"You shouldn't have to ask that," I said.  "Obviously, you're going to describe the ones you like, and I'm going to encourage you to pick two or three, and we're not leaving without buying something."

She seemed to think about that for a minute, and then she said, "Maybe I will not get my own socks.  Maybe I will just wear yours."

"That's fine," I said.  "It's okay if you change your mind later, though."

"I do not think I will," she said.

"None of my socks are pink or purple.   If you get bored of black or grey or whatever, I'll understand." 

"I think I would get bored of grey if they were not your socks," she said.

"I don't get it," I said.  I finished massaging her right foot and started on the left one. "Why would my grey socks be any less boring than any other grey socks?"

"Because every time I put them on I will think of you," she said. "I will think about you doing this.  So, your grey socks will be very special grey socks." 

I have to say, I liked the idea of that.  I liked the thought that Sini would be happier wearing my socks than she would be with a pair of her very own.

It was then that I fully realized an object really doesn't have to be elaborate or expensive to be meaningful to someone.  Something as pedestrian and ordinary as a borrowed pair of grey socks can have significance to the people who understand the story behind it.    Like Sini, I felt sure I would be thinking of this moment every time I noticed her wearing my socks.   I'll remember how much we love each other and  that she's willing to forgive me for being dumb and insensitive sometimes.  I'll think about how we always tackle our challenges together, no matter if they're big or small.

I can almost hear somebody out there saying, All that, just from a pair of socks?

Yeah.  All that.

So, as it turns out, Pax is right and socks really are serious business.   When you get up tomorrow,  put on your socks and wear them with pride.   If someone you love gave those socks to you, cherish that person and remind yourself why they're a special part of your life.