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There Are No Socks in Heaven

Yesterday the thermometer in my minivan read 87 degrees. In case you are reading this blog months from now, I’d like to point out that yesterday was March 15. While I’m slightly concerned that this summer will bring days of 140-degree heat and fire raining from the sky, I was very excited to experience an 87-degree day in March. I was excited because it reminded me that it’s only a matter of time before winter is over for now and the warm weather will become the norm.

Why does the warmer weather excite me? Not for the reasons you think.

Warmer weather means my kids can wear sandals. When my kids are wearing sandals, do you know what they are not wearing? Socks. I hate socks. Jesus never actually said it, but I’m pretty sure there are no socks in heaven. He probably didn’t mention it because the people of His time weren’t really sock people. He probably saw how confused they were when He taught in parables and decided to skip the part about no socks in heaven. No need to confuse the disciples even more.

There are no socks in heaven because socks are the single most irritating clothing item ever invented. There is no way God is going to allow such things to be running amok in heaven.

My kids go through roughly 180 socks a day. If you are new to my blog, I am not Michelle Duggar. I do not have 19 kids. I have three kids. A more appropriate number of socks to dirty would be 6. But no, my kids use socks the way most people use tissues. Every time they return home from somewhere they take their socks off. When it’s time to leave the house again, the socks have gone missing. By the end of the day, they’ve worn a lot of socks.

I don’t need to mention that every time I do laundry I end up with more unmatched socks than matched socks. That’s to be expected in a house with three little ones, right? What scares me most is how their behavior has begun to rub off on me. Lately, I’m noticing more of my socks missing. My bounty of matched socks is diminishing. This wouldn’t bother me so much except that my husband’s socks remain perfectly matched 99.9% of the time. I don’t even think he tries to keep his socks together. I see him casually toss his socks in the hamper the same way I do and yet his socks stick together. It’s hard to not covet his perfectly matched socks.

That’s why the warmer weather is so wonderful. No more socks to wear and no more socks to covet. Don’t even get me started about how awesome it is that we don’t need to wear jackets anymore. ┬áThat’s a completely different blog post.



truly laughing over here because this issue is my issue. socks under the sofa, in the car, behind the toilet… WHY? and yes, the mister’s socks are always perfectly matched!