The Joy of Sox

Some years ago, there was a commercial -- about what, I've no idea -- which ended with the husband sitting next to his wife and saying, with a smile "My wife -- I think I'll keep her". I picked up on that line about five years ago, only I changed it -- when I would mislay one of my socks, and it would turn up, I would say "My socks -- I think I'll keep them". My wife, who is a pretty good sport, would smile.

This morning, we were going out for a walk, and I mentioned that she would find one of my grey socks on the floor in front of the door. I had taken them off when coming in from mowing -- don't mow wet grass unless you're willing to have the clippings all over your legs -- and I had intended to shake them out and toss them into the bedroom hamper. I only grabbed one when I was going upstairs, though, and so the next time I went down there, I made sure to grab the other and toss it where I would see it when we came back in. To my surprise, it wasn't on the floor any more -- it was on the table next to the door.

My wife was already outside, waiting for me, so when I got out there, I asked her about it, and she told me that she'd wanted to make sure it didn't get kicked aside. "Because I know those socks are important to you", she added, with a straight face. "Yes", I replied, walking down the driveway. "They are very dear to me. In fact, they're right next to my sole."

She held her head in her hands, groaning.

Is she great, or what?