It's the little things that gross me out.

Two little things...


Little guy:  "Mom, will you turn these right-side-out?" as he tosses two very long red soccer socks at me.

Me:  "Sure!"  I mean, why not, turning things right-side-out is every mom's super power, right?

Little guy:  "Now will you help me put them on?"

Me:  "You need help putting your socks on?"

Little guy:  "Yeah, they're hard."  I give it a go, having to brace myself against the wall to put enough force into the task."

Me:  "Dang, dude.  That was hard."

Little guy:  "Can you help me with the other one?"

Me:  <sigh>  "OK."  I assume the sock putting on position again and this time I notice a little dirt on the socks.  "Hey, are these dirty socks?!?!"

Little guy:  "Yeah, but I only sweated in them once."

Me:  "Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgghhhh!"


I had my whole arm in those nasty things!  Not a fan, little dude, not a fan.

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