Socks

I have a love/hate relationship with socks.

I pretty much am in love with bare feet. I want my size thirteens free. If socially acceptable, I’d be barefoot (or maybe in flip flops) at all times (I guess I am more like George Costanza from Seinfeld than I thought --- remember when he wanted to be draped in velvet were it socially acceptable?)

So socks… yeah… I am very picky about buying socks. They have to be the right weight. Wool, and other heavier socks, worn with Birkenstocks aren’t a good look --- but what a great feel in the cold weather. However, most of the time I like very light-weight socks. The glitch comes in that oftentimes I’ve found that thinner socks aren’t sturdy enough. It blows chunks to wear a new pair of socks one time and then realize that you’ve already torn a hole in them or otherwise destroyed them.

On the other hand, thicker socks can create havoc. To me, there isn’t much worse than having on shoes and thick socks. That can create an epic proportion nightmare that lasts all day. I can’t even pretend to think clearly when my dogs are begging for freedom from their cloth prisons.

Lately I’ve found a great compromise. Perfectly weighted socks that make me (and my tootsies) so happy. I can’t remember the brand name, but they are sold at Target and, I believe, are the brand of that store. Yep, I love em.

Socks can be my friend.