A few years ago I wrote a post titled How to Change Your Husband. Almost every day since at least one person comes to my blog via a Google search for just that. Sometimes they type in, “Change husband.” Sometimes it’s, “Make your husband change.” Once it was “Reasons to cane your husband.”
I said a prayer for that man.
The thing is, when they click-through to my post they’re probably disappointed, because it’s actually a tongue-in-cheek little ditty about how you CAN’T change your husband. You can’t through sheer force of your own will get him to change big things like a personality trait that drives you crazy. Nor can you, as I was reminded yesterday, get him to change small things, like his socks.
Dave, my husband, doesn’t just wear a pair of socks until they’re worn out. He wears them until they’re so full of holes that with one last spin they simply vaporize in the dryer. Our 14th anniversary is in March. I’m pretty sure he still owns socks he packed for our honeymoon. He may even have some left over from college. And high school.
The ratty socks make me nuts, but for him there are higher priority issues to deal with.
About a month ago while putting away clean laundry, I noticed there were holes in the heels of many of Dave’s socks. I mentioned he should pick up some new socks next time he went to the store. I mentioned it a few times over a few weeks. There weren’t any new socks, and the holey ones kept showing up in the wash.
I threw some away.
Dave noticed there were less socks, but still no new ones ever found their way into his drawer. Instead he just asked me if I’d washed any socks lately, because he was running out of clean.
Finally, last week we were at Walmart together. I made sure he visited the Men’s Hosiery aisle. He purchased a package of 10 brand new, completely intact socks. I left the store in triumph, looking forward to tossing out the rest of his tattered socks.
Last night when we were getting ready for bed, I saw two gaping holes in the heels of Dave’s socks. Where were his bright white, pristine, unmarred socks?
“If you bought new socks why are you still wearing the old ones with holes in them?”
“I bought ankle socks. It’s too cold to wear ankle socks, so I’m wearing the old ones because they’re longer.”
Yes. That begs the question, “Then why didn’t you buy longer socks then since it’s winter?”
But I didn’t ask.
I know when I’m defeated.
If the man wants to wear holey socks, he’ll wear holey socks.
Because ladies, you can’t change your husband.
Or his socks.
“He wears them until they’re so full of holes that with one last spin they simply vaporize in the dryer.”
Thank you, I have always wondered why science hadn’t discover the black hole where socks go to die… LOL
Buy often, buy cheap, buy ’em whether you need ’em or not. And hope the Goldens don’t eat too many of them…
I can remember when my mom used to ‘darn’ socks, (to mend, as torn clothing, with rows of stitches, sometimes by crossing and interweaving rows to span a gap; thanks Dictionary.com). She had this little thing that looked like an egg with a handle. She would put it into the sock to make a flat stitch and then sew them back together. We weren’t poor and could have afforded to buy new socks, but my mom fixed everything, including socks a couple of times before we got new stuff…
Can you imagine?
No I can’t imagine. I’m way too lazy to fix holes in socks! 🙂