Ok, I admit it, I have an addiction. But, you see, it is not my fault. At least that is the story I am sticking to.

I can’t stop buying socks for Cassi–there, I said it.  Whew!  I feel better already.  The above picture is just an example of her socks for 3rd grade. (Aren’t those gray ones just too cute??) But I refuse to take the blame for this.

It is my mom’s fault.

Let’s go back, WAY back.

I am a child of the 60s and 70s.  Knee high socks were all the rage back then. Bobby socks were out and knee highs were in by the time I was aware of what people wore. But apparently my mom didn’t know that.

1973.  It was 6th grade.  Kids were different back then- or, at least, we were.  Mama picked out and bought the clothes, and we wore them.  We basically had no input, nor did we usually want one. Not in elementary anyway.

This year was different.

When my mom was a young woman, she was very stylish.  Always looked her best. She had great taste in clothes.

See what I mean?  Almost looks like a movie star.

But something happened as her kids were growing up. She still always looked great, but didn’t really get that kids needed to look like kids.  So, thus, in my second grade school pic, I sported a bouffant hairdo.  No, you can’t see it.  But there were times she just didn’t get the whole kid fashion thing.

Enter the 6th grade wardrobe.

I wasn’t one of the popular kids- far from it.  I was extremely shy back then, and that year I started a new school.  Difficult for any child, but so much worse for a shy one. I didn’t make many friends, really only one or two. It was bad enough that long, sleek, straight hair was ‘in’, and here I am rocking the frizzy-hair-with-frizzy-bangs-do. Yep, that one hurt. Not only was my hair not in vogue, I also started school that year wearing bobby socks. You see, we didn’t have a lot of money, and a pack of bobby socks was cheap- probably because they were painfully out of style. I did ask for some knee high socks, and about halfway through the school year my mom bought me one pair of white ones. I guarantee I stood a bit taller on the days that I wore them. And the days in between, my bobby socks were pulled waaaay up, and just almost came to my knees. Well, not quite. Only just over my calf. Yes, I was THAT girl. The one wearing bobby socks the wrong way, thinking that it made me look like one of the cooler kids. In reality, most likely, I just looked goofy. I would come home daily and quickly check my sock drawer to see if it had been laundry day. I had to know if ‘the socks’ were in there. Because I knew the next day would be much better if I got to wear them- the cool socks- with my not so cool Church of God knee length dress. The other girls wore jeans, or short skirts, I wasn’t allowed to. But I had ‘the socks’, which kind of made up for it. At least in my mind it had to. I am pretty sure there were a few times that I hid them after wearing them, just so I could wear them twice in one week. And the day I finally tore a hole in those dingy-by-now-used-to-be-white socks, I wanted to die. How could I show my face at school without the cool socks at least once a week?  I couldn’t ask for more, we just didn’t have the money. So, I would no longer be almost-cool for the rest of the school year. And sixth grade dragged on.

When I grew up and had my own kids, I didn’t give much thought to socks. Sixth grade had been forgotten long ago in the growing up process. The boys wore white crew socks, and Amanda wore what was on sale-  hmmm, I see a trend here. ( Mama must have passed that down.) She wore whatever I could find on a limited budget- scrunch socks, anklets-  I really didn’t give them much thought, and she never complained. Eventually she found her own favorite- toe socks- which she wore the rest of her life. So I guess I didn’t do too much damage by not paying attention to what socks she wore when she was little.

She grew up, and any worries I ever had about little girls socks were now long behind me…

At least that is what I thought.  But God had other plans.

My beautiful Amanda passed away too young, and our three grandchildren were placed in our care, one being a girl in first grade- Princess Cassi.

All of a sudden, all those 6th grade, angst filled mornings came back to me.

Were ‘the socks’ clean or not?

And it just so happens that pretty much any type of sock is in style these days. So, I couldn’t stand thinking that Cassi might wake up with the anxiety of not having the right pair of socks with the right outfit. And the sock hoarding began.

She has white, pink, blue and every color in between. She has animal ones. Striped ones, polka dot, and leopard ones. She has no shows, ankle and knee highs. My favorite to buy are the knee highs- for some reason. And she loves them, and pulls them waaay up… OVER her knees.

She probably has about 50 pair of socks, all different. And I just saw some online yesterday that I have to order.

Aren’t they adorable?

And these….

I will probably be ordering them this week.  A girl can never have too many….well, in my thinking anyway.

Cassi will have many problems and difficulties in the growing up years.  But having the right socks will not be one of them.

That being said, I definitely have a problem, an addiction.  But, it’s not my fault.

Blame my mom.

Susan Kelley

copyright 2016

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One thought on “of socks and hoarding…

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