This morning I was encouraging Mark to hurry with his shoes and socks. We were on our way to pick up Braeden. I think we were late every day all week to pick up Braeden and especially yesterday when I was so late that I was speeding and got a ticket and am now $154 poorer...
Anyway. I was hurrying Mark along. In his slowest chattiest way he told me that it's Crunchy Season again. I didn't know what he meant. Leaves? Ice? I distractedly asked him what he was talking about.
He said, "My socks."
Mark wears his sandals exclusively until I throw them away. (Do you think I'm kidding?) He is back to wearing his socks and shoes and he stuffs his socks into his shoes when he takes them off at the door and apparently...doesn't change the socks so they get crunchy.
Get a new pair of socks Mark!!!!
I'm just doing my part so you will be reassured that you are a very good mother. A mother whose son does not mark the season with crunchy socks.
Also, I was late picking up Braeden again because this time I drove the speed limit and that (as it turns out) takes longer. My mom is reading this and thinking, you need to leave earlier, Thelma. I know. I know.