The Miracle Sock

Maybe I can fit this in before Carson wakes up…

Funny how the little things in life are the ones that have the biggest impact on us. For instance, take my $6 pair of Hanes sweatpants I bought at Wal-Mart a couple of weeks ago. I’ve bought various fleece/sweatpants at all kinds of stores for all kinds of money. I’ve bought the Victoria’s Secret Pink sweatpants, Abercrombie & Fitch, Hollister, North Face fleeces…and paid a lot more than $6. But, by far, the most comfortable, best-fitting, perfect-length pair I’ve purchased in 29 years on this earth have been these Hanes sweatpants from Wal-Mart that I purchased on a whim. After a terrible fight getting Carson down to sleep the other night, I slipped myself into these pants and was instantly transported to a state of Zen. They’re like a cup of hot cocoa, a roaring fire, and marshmallows in the dead of winter all rolled into one glorious pair of snuggly-soft fleece. I’ve been unable to find another pair in the same size since, but I look every time I go to Wal-Mart (which is a lot).

As a matter of fact, I was just there yesterday, picking up a few groceries. Buying groceries for one means buying less quantities more frequently, I’ve discovered. I can’t eat an entire loaf of bread before it goes bad (not that I’m eating bread right now anyway), for example. So, about once a week (sometimes more often), I have to replenish my supplies. Last night, I stopped in on my way to Zumba. As I was grabbing my last couple of items, my Mommy nose picked up on a familiar scent…the poopy diaper. I had two options: I could take Carson to the back of the store and use the bacteria-laden changing table (without my changing pad, which I have misplaced), or I could go ahead and check out and change him in the car. Without a changing pad handy, I opted for the latter. So, there I was, bent over in the back seat trying to hang on to Carson’s kicking legs, keeping his hands clear, and wielding poop-covered wipes. As luck would have it, he wrangled a leg free and of course swiped a white sock right into his poopy bottom. Great. He’s required to wear socks for childcare. And, despite a fully-loaded diaper bag, complete with toys, wipes, diapers, formula, teething tablets, a blanket, and extra outfit, I don’t have a single pair of extra socks. By this time I was now running behind schedule, but I had no choice but to run back inside and buy some socks. But wait! There it was! A random, matching sock that had been left in the back seat. I swear it materialized out of nowhere. Quick prayer of thanks. If that wasn’t a small miracle, I don’t know what would qualify. Like I said, it’s the little things in life.

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