November 5, 2007

She Must Love Me

I am joyful. Fall has arrived, bringing with it, among other things, cool temperatures and close-toed shoes.

It began on a Wednesday. Opening my sock drawer, I dug through the neat rows of socks in various colors looking for something in basic black. I'd already worn black socks both Monday and Tuesday. My sock drawer contains a third and a fourth and a fifth pair of black socks, but one has a hole in the left toe, another is just too short, and yet another not what my feet had in mind.

My brow furrowed. I briefly considered, then rejected, alternate colors.

The little angel on my shoulder encouraged me to settle for the pair with the hole in the toe. "Just wear those and keep your shoes on all day," she counseled.

My little angel is ever the practical one.

The little devil on my other shoulder whispered urgently, "Yo Suzanne. There's another whole drawer full of socks in that other dresser!"

I perked. My little devil can be practical too.

My angel gasped. "But Suzanne! Those are Wendy's socks!"

My devil smirked. "Oh come on now. She won't even notice."

I inched closer to the other dresser, intending just to take a quick peek. My angel tsk-tsked.

The drawer slid silently open revealing a wealth of soft, dark socks nestled inside. My hand slid into the mix, my fingers automatically reaching for the blackest pair. I caressed the soft marino wool from which they were crafted.

"Oh my," I sighed. Extracting them from the drawer, I took note of their composition. Knee socks! Divinely soft and not too thick. Blacker than coal. My heart pitter-pattered in response as I rubbed them against my cheek, breathing in their fresh clean scent. Perfect. That pair of socks was exquisite!

My angel tsk-tsked again. "Put those back before you do something you'll regret!"

I ignored her. My decision had been made. I sat on the corner of the bed and pulled on the first sock. (My left foot. I always sock my left foot first.) A shiver went up my spine. That soft marino wool snuggled my skin from the tips of my toes all the way up my calf. I wriggled my toes joyfully before slipping on my shoes.

The devil stuck her tongue out at the angel, who fluttered her wings in dismay. All day long my feet were cozy, there was an extra lightness in my step.

And so it was that, come Sunday, my efficient and adorable Queen of All Things Laundry questioned how so many of her black socks ended up in the basket when she had worn none that week.

Oops. She noticed. How could she help but? You see, I hadn't stopped with one pair. The next day and the next after that my feet had been clad in black socks purloined from my lover's stash.

Sometimes it's good to listen to my devil.
Sure, Wendy noticed.
But she didn't seem to mind.



Anonymous said...

tee hee, here is another good reason for women to date women! sharing clothes!!!

Zoe said...

I gave up long ago on seperate socks.

weese said...

we retain separate socks. unless there is a dire need. then swapping may occur. we also have differnt taste is socks. I do so love the argyle.
I notice you say "dug through the neat rows..."

sporksforall said...

Should anyone actually want to go through my sock drawer, they would find no merino long socks of any color. Shudder. I have short yellow one with snails on them, though.

psu.acoustician said...

sharing socks is great if the socks in your drawer and the socks in their drawer are even remotely the same size.........

Anonymous said...

I'm concerned that you say your feet have developed independent thought. Letting them make their own sock decisions will only exacerbate the problem. Soon they'll be walking in directions unchecked by your own desires, and you'll be powerless to stop them.

Robin said...

heh, heh. our only rule is that the one who paid for it gets to wear it first.

SassyFemme said...

I can't touch Fran's socks w/o asking first. I've tried it a few times and she gets rather possessive about them. The ones I can wear can't be any of her cutesy print ones.

Middle Girl said...

Sooooo, this is just some of what I have in store for me when we ultimately merge. Excellent

maxine said...

Though there are those among you who think I need to have socks, I find it easier to make sure eb has socks and I can then borrow them if the need ever arises. October in New England is not such a situation. A big eww to close toed shoes.

Taradharma said...

love does indeed conquer all. i've got a butch at home that regularly 'loses' her t-shirts....

Val said...

Lesbians CAN double their wardrobe, however, it only works if you're both about the same time. So, I can rarely share socks with my love.

However, we don't share the same sock taste, so it's not an issue.

I love the description of the soft socks going on... the right socks can make the day so much nicer.