A Pair of Socks

April 26, 2010

My son came back from his morning run and told me he had passed a couple of our friends along the way. I asked him if they harassed him, maybe hooted at him or gave him shit. He said, “Well, I had my headphones on. But I do think they yelled something about the socks on my hands.” Socks on his hands? Indeed. I said, “Why do you wear socks on your hands when you run?” The answer? “Because I don’t own gloves.” So I asked the next logical question: “Why don’t you buy gloves?” And, well, the answer is logical: “Because socks work.”

I stood there and laughed and said “I like you so much.” This boy of mine, my baby, a six-foot-one muscular eighteen-year -old who aced the GED and went off to live on a farm last year because he was ready to do the next thing. A kid who immersed himself in reading about organized crime and then political movements and then religion just because he was curious. A kid who is comfortable wearing sock on his hands because “they work.” He rocks my world with his whip-smart mind.

A nice thing… logic in the face of convention.

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4 Responses to “A Pair of Socks”

  1. catherine said

    No more sleepless nights for you. With a mind like that he rules.

  2. A lovely message–and a pretty evolved kid who will do this at age 18. I’d do it today, but I don’t give a shit how I look. At 18? Pffft.

    Also: have you seen those shoes with toes? I have some friends who swear by them.

  3. I know this child.

    thanks for the reminder for love preeminent.

  4. Dennis Knight said

    Well, I am going to start my comments with this one. I have read and loved reading them all. Of that I plainly want you to have no doubt whatsoever. Several of them are for me like guideposts while others are reflections of the most sincere form of love and caring.

    Ah. But this one I have so very much in common with. I believe your son’s answer shows just how wise and unaffected he is by so much of what diminishes human beings. Socks do, in fact, work.

    My late friend jack used to dust the house with his socks. He would arrive home, take off his shoes and socks, place the socks over his hands and begin dusting. When asked why he told us that they worked really well picking up dust when semi moist like that.

    Jack was one of the finest human beings I have ever known—despite his methods of cleaning. He was an original. Your son is one too. They are rare. But you should know that very well being one yourself.

    This was wonderful writing.

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