With two adults and three children residing in this house, there is always an abundance of socks.  Socks to be washed.  Socks to be sorted.  Socks spilling out of the wardrobe. Single socks who have lost their sole mates.  But they didn’t used to irk me as much as they have done lately.

My tween son doesn’t like wearing socks.

He never has.

He wears them of course because he has to wear them at school. Unlike my other children, he won’t wear shoes without socks as it doesn’t feel right.

But the minute he comes into the house and relaxes, off come the socks.

Does he run obediently towards the washing basket to deposit them? No, of course not, that would be far too easy wouldn’ t it?

He throws them.  He doesn’t care where he doesn’t look.  He just pulls them off and throws.

I used to ask him politely where his socks were.  I then used to remind him where the washing basket was.  Now I am in full on nagging mode.

The problem with the throwing of the socks routine is you never quite know when and where they will turn up.  He likes to chill out at the end of a long, hard day at school and he used to lie on the sofa. Sadly, as I blogged last week, we are currently sofaless, so he sometimes lies on the bean bags in the living room.  Other times he will head straight to his bedroom but he rather likes our double bed too as it is a nice place to spread out.  Wherever he is, one thing is for sure, his socks will be there somewhere too.

There have been times when I have rolled over in bed to find one of his smelly sock rather closer to my nostrils than I am comfortable.  If I’m really lucky, they might be lurking at the end of my bed or under the pillow.  In his room, they are usually on the floor or behind his Xbox.  The living room is a bit trickier as there are lots more places a smelly sock can quietly fester.  When we did remove the sofas, we found a few lonely socks that had long been abandoned and them reunited with theit partners.  I often discover them in the oddest of places such as behind the TV, hanging off the blinds, in his sister’s toy boxes.

What makes it even worse is that now it is summer, he will come in and take off his socks.  He might then go into the garden and put on a clean pair.  Once back in, the socks are off again.  A third pair will then go on if he goes out with his friends.  We have had up to five pairs in one day, all put on, all pulled off and thrown somewhere.

I do ask him to put on the ones he was wearing before, especially if they were only on his feet for a small amount of time, but he prefers them fresh it would seem.

So I have invented a new game, it is imaginatively called ‘hunt the sock.’ I look at his position and try and guess where the sock might have landed.  I award myself up to ten points for a direct hit and then less the further away the sock is from my original guess.  It helps to reduce my stress levels and the amount of nagging that I do.

And of course, I might sneak the odd one under his pillow, just so he knows how it feels too.

Copyright: krisckam / 123RF Stock Photo