Bare Feet are Happy Feet

My boys have this preference for Tommy Hilfiger socks. Always have. They don't care what they wear in the way of jeans, T-shirts, etc., as long as they have TH socks to wear. This sort of bothered me in the beginning, but, seeing as how I am a connoisseur of fine socks myself, I let it slide.

I have OCD. It's not a big deal except for the sock thing. You know that little seam that goes across the toes? If mine isn't perfectly straight across the top of my toes, I can't function. I'm serious. This is why I stopped wearing socks altogether except for special occasions. In the dead of winter, I'm sockless. My grandmother goes nuts about it, but it's better than suffering, and I simply can't help it.

SO, when it first came time to buy "big boy" socks for my sons, I bought them the TH socks, hoping that they would be more comfortable than the horrors I was subjected to as a poor child. They loved them. I then ventured into the world of Wal-Mart socks, but they would have none of it. I simply wrote it off as sock snobbery. Silly me.

Until one day I had neglected to launder socks and there were no TH socks left in their drawer. One twin came running and said, "Where's my flag socks?"

Wow.

The fact that these were name-brand socks was not important. They just loved the little flags on them.

How humbling.