Ghost Sock

I walked into my bedroom on Monday morning while trying to get ready to go to work, and I surveyed the mess. My daughter gets ready for school before we do, and we have a full length mirror in our room with enough room to stand back and survey yourself. This is a draw for our children of course, so she naturally comes in every morning to check herself out and make changes, as she often does.

She is not neat!

There was a print sock on the floor in front of the cedar chest at the bottom of our bed and a sweater on the ironing board and a crumpled sweatshirt on our bed. I picked up the whole mess, including the  sock that seemed to be clean, and put it all in a pile on the bed. After I showered and dressed, I went downstairs and complained to my wife about my daughter’s mess, and how I had picked it all up and put it in a pile on our bed.

In the evening, on the way to dinner, my wife told me she had lost a sock about a year ago, a print one, and suddenly it had appeared on the floor near the cedar chest, and she was thankful that she had saved the old one.

I corrected her, of course, because it was in a neat pile on the bed. She had wondered about that herself, because she found then articles of clothing scattered around the room, on the floor, the bed and the ironing board.

My daughter had gone to school before I even picked up her laundry.

Goosebumps arose all over my arms when I realized the implications.