Mr. Sockhead

From the day he was born, my youngest has shown a strong attraction to all things soft and fuzzy: the blanket Grandma crocheted for him that he carries around the house, leaving a wake of blue fuzz behind him; his special dinosaur Halloween costume that is two sizes too small and still gets weekly wear; the teddy bear at Cracker Barrel that couldn't be pried away and had to be purchased.... I could go on, but I won't. Some of the favored softies are my soft, fuzzy, wearing-around-the-house, wintertime socks. I spent much of this past winter with frozen toes because if I put on these socks, they were immediately confiscated by him and carried away. Ditto for my fuzzy houseshoes. I believe there may even be a picture on an earlier post of him wearing a pair.

For the last couple of weeks, the green ones have been favored. He has sock E.S.P. I sneak them away to wash them, and when I start folding the laundry, he comes and steals them before I can hide them. This morning was no exception. He wore them on his feet (they're actually thigh-highs) for an hour or two, and then he brought them to me. I tried to help him put them back on, and he said, "No." I then started putting them on his hands, as he often does that too. He said, "No." He leaned over, sticking his head in my lap and said, "Head?"

I said, "You want them on your head?"

He said, "Okay."

So I proceeded to stretch the elastic to (maybe beyond) it's limit, but his head was too big. We'd s - t - r - e - t - c - h it over, and it would boing right off. We laughed and laughed as we made multiple attempts. Finally, with his eyes pulled back like a facelift patient straight off the operating table, we succeeded! I don't think I'll be able to wear them again. And here is the final product:

P.S. In case you didn't notice, he's feeling better today!