I have a sock drawer. I think most people should. Socks should be separate from your other clothes, just as your underwear should be separated. This isn’t just for organizational reasons; it’s unnatural to combine the under garments with the outerwear. Only an unhygienic monster could do such a thing. Moving on…
The other day I was looking in my sock drawer and realized that I had a significant amount of socks that were above the ankle. Tube socks, calf socks, dress socks, etc., etc. you know what they look like – your father wears them and you probably gave him some for Christmas. He REALLY (probably not) loves them too. How thoughtful of you!
I had scores of these hideous beasts rolled together, all lumped next to each other, beckoning me to put them on, to flex my toes in them and sweat in them. It made me uneasy.
No one is immune to this day of reckoning. There will come a point where childish things need to be put away, when youthfulness is quenched, you realize Blink 182 was never a good band, and when ankle socks aren’t for you anymore. I was foolish enough to think that I would not become, dare I think it let alone write it, a ‘pants man’. Most men won’t have a moment of clarity, for the maturation is naturally gradual. It’s something you fall into, but unlike the “falling into” that we are used to. It’s not like falling into: love with a woman or team, a pit of tar, a group of friends, or a job. It just happens without you really knowing or being able to control or stop it. Its ever so sneaky – the pants man.
Becoming this way is expected. It’s acceptable. On sunny days you will spend most of them inside a building, with pants on. In fact on most days of your life you will wear these pants and accompanying socks. Underneath those pants will be your long socks. You could wear the short ankle ones underneath your pants, when you are in the building all day, but who are you kidding? You don’t have that much game.
I’m going write Santa and tell him, Dear Santa, I’m good on the socks.