It’s true that we have no idea what our mothers went through until we’re moms ourselves, and recently I started getting some of my payback for what I put my mom through.
I had a problem with socks as a kid, to put it mildly. No, I didn’t mind wearing them. It was a matter of getting them on correctly. If I didn’t have the seam exactly right and the heel in just the right spot, I could not stand having the socks on my feet. I absolutely hated it, and it seemed like I could never, ever get those socks to feel comfortable on my feet without my mom’s help. I had my mom putting my socks on for me well after I should have been able to dress myself from head to toe. It was kind of a running joke between us. I even made her an Official Sock Putter-Onner award at one point, complete with a picture of her putting my socks on for me. (Mind you, I was probably in fourth grade by then. Totally old enough to put on my own socks.)
Well, I had completely forgotten about my past sock issues (I can do it myself now! I’m a big girl!) until recently when, while trying to get dressed one morning, Logan had a Queen Mother of a fit, which ended in him crying and throwing his socks across the room while uttering his favorite swear, “I can’t get these Dang It socks on! I guess I will just have to wear flip flops all the time.”
I paused, looked at him in surprise, and burst out laughing. What could I do? It was like watching a little me, all over again.
I sat on the floor and pulled one of the socks onto his foot, which caused a fresh outburst.
“It doesn’t feel right!” Logan bellowed, sobbing like his world was ending.
“Ok, Bud, I understand completely,” I said, smiling to myself knowingly. I did understand. A misplaced sock seam is a very important issue. “We’ll keep working on it until we get it right.”
I should have knows this was coming. Logan has become increasingly sensitive to clothing discomfort over the years. It’s quite frustrating. He takes it to a new level. I know a lot of kids hate tags in their clothing. Every time Logan gets a new shirt, the first thing he does is check for a tag, and if he finds one, he brings me the scissors. Thankfully, many children’s clothing manufacturers are starting to design tagless clothing. The size and washing instructions are simply printed on the inside. I love that so much! So many of Logan’s clothes have been put away for Jordan to wear, and I have no idea what size they are.
Logan takes clothing discomfort to a new level, though. What other kid do you know that won’t wear shorts or pants with stripes down the sides because “the stripes might twist?” Yes, if the stripe on one leg doesn’t EXACTLY match the stripe on the other leg, he has to de-pants himself (though I think he’s really always looking for a reason to de-pants himself. He is a little boy, after all, and from what I gather, when you’re a little boy being pantsless is one of the best parts of life.)
But anyway, it’s all small stuff and I’m not going to sweat it.
Instead, I’m going to step up and gracefully accept my crown as the new Official Sock Putter-Onner. I’m happy to follow in my mom’s footsteps. She has been a great mom to me and I want to be a great mom to my sons. Even if it means I have to put socks on their stinky big boy feet when they’re in high school.
Hopefully one day, when Logan’s a dad, his daughter will come to him with a sock in her hand, her foot outstretched, and he will laugh to himself, remembering me.
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