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A Bad Limerick For Hot Dogs

There once was a fella with hot dog-ed feet
Whose rep amongst bloggers was not quite “elite”
But who cares what they say
He rocks new socks each day
So at least his uniqueness is on fleek

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Sometimes Things Turn Peachy

When I put these socks on this morning, I didn’t know why. I mean, yeah, it’s mostly foods this week, but why the peaches on Wednesday? It’s not like Wednesday is particularly know for it’s peachy-esqueness. Truth is, I don’t even much like peaches that much.

It probably shouldn’t have surprised me then, that I was in a dark mood when I got home from work today. When you’ve been sporting less-favored fruits on your feet all day and you can’t even tell yourself why, well, odds are good you haven’t been putting the brightest energy out into the universe all day.

That said, I didn’t want to be in a mood. But, yanno, Life is full of disappointment. Here’s what really got me, though: on so many days,  many things have to happen one right after another in well-ordered succession for a busy family of six to successfully conquer the hours from 6 to 10 PM without anyone losing their mind…or worse. First, somebody has to be chauffeured somewhere, and then there’s a parent meeting about something at roughly exactly the same time. Oh hey, it’d be nice to find time to squeeze dinner down the ol’ piehole before cleaning up the kitchen and racing off to The Game Of the Night. After that, when you finally get home (sometime not too late after 10, if you’re lucky) any parent capable of keeping his or her eyes open is in need of a stiff drink and a comfy pair of shorts.

It’s a hectic piece of choreography when everything goes off like a well-oiled machine. When it doesn’t, well…

Enter dark mood.

In the midst of tonight’s mid-evening dance of chaos, I found that one of my darling children — who shall nameless because I’m not a complete monster — neglected the completion of their dishwasher unloading duties prior to departing for parts unknown*. Half a full dishwasher meant I couldn’t clean up dinner before we left for The Game Of The Night (which, in fact, was the Boys’ Varsity Soccer District Championship), thus dooming me to having to address the kitchen as well as dragging the weekly recycling to the curb and a few other nightly duties, after said game.

Long story, well, long, I likely wouldn’t be finding time to sink into My Comfy Chair until sometime after 11. If I wasn’t lucky, close to midnight.

Now, some days that wouldn’t have bothered me. But. Today was not that day.

Swearing that said nameless child would not be leaving the house ever again — or, like, at least for a month — except to go to school and, I don’t know, volunteer for the elderly or something, I did the best I could with the kitchen and then we left for The Game. Meanwhile, the Puddinette gave me a face and told me to quit being grumpy. I mumbled something non-committal, but let’s be honest…who has ever been told to quit being pissy without it accomplishing the complete opposite?

It started to rain before we got to The Game. Because, of course it did. If fact, you can see water on the bleacher next to my feet in the picture above.

Luckily, though, The Game started. Pretty soon I forgot all about the rain and dark mood and even how wet my shorts — and all the parts underneath — had gotten. Because, and I’ve said this before in posts from yesteryear about baseball, or soccer, or something else altogether, there simply is nothing like just getting to watch your kid do something they love unconditionally.

Especially when they’re teens. The band of things a teen will allow to you see them love unconditionally is a narrow space indeed.

And then, well after said dark mood had been burned away by the joy of watching my kid, the universe did us a solid, because sometimes the universe does that.  Said kid’s team scored 3 goals in 16 minutes to turn a 3-1 deficit into a 4-3 lead with 52 seconds left in the game. They won The Game Of The Night, and consequently, the District Championship, whilst I cheered myself nearly hoarse.

Now I know why I put on these peachy socks this morning.

 

*I’m kidding. Said child’s location was well known, and had been prearranged.

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A Haiku For Unlikely Accomplishment

The end draws nearer
Three hundred sixty-five socks!
That shit’s bananas

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Hot Soccer And Spicy Socks

Am I the only one who sees the patterns in these pictures and sometimes can’t figure out what I’m even looking at? I swear that 50% of the time, I’m only sure of what I had on my feet any given day because I put them there in the morning. I feel like it’s almost the sock-picture equivalent of seeing a common word you know we’ll and saying it over and over until it doesn’t seem like a word anymore.

Like, for instance, common

… common …

… common …

… common …

… common …

… common …

… common …

C

O

M

M

O

N

… common!

See? Seriously, it’s like it’s not even a real word now. Or maybe it’s a foreign one? It’s, like, Klingon or something.

Anyway, the pattern in today’s socks is hot sauce bottles, which is fitting because this picture was taken at Oldest Son’s soccer game tonight and it was stupid hot and humid for early October. And, sure, spicy hot sauce heat is not at all the same thing as The New October Annual Global Climate Change heat, but it’s my blog and I’ll make whatever spurious connections I see fit in the name of finding a daily sock theme.

After writing 282 consecutive posts about socks, I’ll take whatever nonsense pops into my head.

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The Wrong Socks

It was a busy day today. For starters, the Puddinette and I took Eldest Son out for his Day Out With Mom and Dad after several months of discussion about what he’s like to do. As he’s roughly 6 weeks from turning 16, you can imagine there wasn’t a whole lot he wanted to do with just us.

I mean, it’s cool that we gave him life and all and make sure he’s clothed, fed, and at soccer on time, but, man, hanging out with Mom and Dad for a few hours is a pretty big request.

Eventually he decided that he would enjoy going to a Bengals’ game, especially since the Puddinette had somehow never been to one. This was pretty much the only weekend this month we could make it work, though, so everybody was happy that the team was playing at home today.

Today was also The Puddinette and my 18th wedding anniversary, plus I had a hockey game tonight. All of which are things that can and should have made a focal point of the day via sock selection.

But today I chose these. Not specific to it being our anniversary, a Bengals’ game, or even hockey night, these handsome stripes are just, basically, the wrong ones. Then again, maybe there are no wrong socks, as long as you make it not the wrong day.

Mutant Turtle, Suspicious Doggie

Smoky either really really wants me to play with the toy he just unceremoniously dropped on my footrest, or really really doesn’t trust my Leonardo TMNT socks. Probably a little bit of both.

I feel him though. These days it’s hard to know who to trust, and mutant ninja turtles are probably not at the top of anyone’s list.

Too bad he doesn’t know Leonardo as well as the rest of us.

Farewell And Adieu To…Animal Week

At last we reach the pinnacle of Animal Week II, with the only predator that’s qualified to follow deer, llama, moose, and bears. They may not be terrestrial, but some species of shark have been atop Earth’s food chain for only something, like, 150 million years or so, which makes them an obvious choice to wrap up this week.

Good luck making a meal of Life this weekend, kids, and remember: always keep swimming, and try not to set the place on fire.

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The Bear Necessities

It would have been an epic sort of travesty had we made it through Animal Week II without a pair of bear socks. Like, some kind of Greek tragedy…just without all the weird bits and the revenge plot.

All I’m saying is that thankfully I did have this excellent pair of socks adorned with bears to put on this morning, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I wasn’t blown off course by Poseidon today, or tempted by the Fates. Never mind that I don’t sail.

Here then, is my advice to you, for keeping your days on track: avoid the chance mistake of taking your dad’s throne, try not to blind anyone who might have a God of the Sea in the family, and have bear socks at the ready, always.

A Haiku In Support Of Animal Week II

Bucks, Llamas, and Moose
Animal Week 2, Oh My
Better than the first!

Llama Llama Sock-o-Rama

I’ve been holding on to these llamas for entirely too long, and so obviously wasn’t gonna miss the moment to bust them out for Animal Week II. The Puddinette suggested that I break out into a whole sock-relared homage to Llama Llama Red Pajama, but it’s late and don’t have the gumption for verse tonight.

What I do have are llama socks, and how awesome is that?