Awesome Socks: They're Awesome

There are relatively few things that will make me exceptionally happy. And by relatively, I mean not a lot of things at all.

One of these things is socks. Not just socks, awesome-socks.

They make me far happier than I ought to be considering they’re just socks, but don’t tell them that because the dryer monster already kidnaps enough of them and I wouldn’t be able to handle run-aways as well.

Anyone can scurry down to the store and pick up a six pack of white socks that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about seriously awesome socks.

I have dozens, literally, and none of them are the same.

I have socks with bats or cats or witches. Socks with stripes or dots or zebra patterns.  Rainbow zebra pattern. There’s a pair of socks that have black leopard print on them, but those aren’t mine and I don’t know where they came from and it would be really weird to wear someone else’s awesome-socks.

The Man doesn’t understand my awesome-sock happiness. He doesn’t understand how I can go out shopping all day long and come back with nothing more than five new pairs of awesome-socks and be pleased about my productivity for the day.

To be fair, I usually come home with lots more stuff, I also really like shoes and purses and bags especially ones with lots of pockets. My point is; if I ever did come home with nothing but five pairs of awesome-socks I would be okay with that.

I have socks with baby chicks, frogs, ladybugs, army camouflage in various colours, and skulls. I have super bright socks in yellow, orange, green, pink and blue.

The plainest pair of socks I own are all black but made out of super fluffy short-cropped-pseudo-boa material.  I don’t know if that is what they are actually made out of but I can’t think of another way to describe them.

My best pair of socks are jail striped knee highs with Jack Skellington on them.  My sister bought me those when she was down in Disneyland.  In fact Disneyland has an entire store dedicated to awesome socks. She took pictures.

The Man immediately told me I couldn’t go. I can’t even go if I have an awesome-sock budget.

I think he secretly wishes he had awesome-socks so he could share in my awesome-sock joy. Which I can understand because all his socks are white, gray, or black, and while that’s functional it’s also less awesome.

But that’s okay because I’m sure when no one is around my awesome-socks hold support meetings for less fortunate socks that are awesomely-challenged so they don't commit sock suicide.