When I realized the other day that Ian only has one pair of jeans that are long enough for him, we headed into The Gap to check out the sale's rack. He absolutely HATES shopping, so he grabbed the first 2 pairs of size 14 slims in sight and headed to the dressing room. I followed him into the dressing area to make sure he at least tried them on.
"Do you want me to sit out here and you can come out and model for me or do you want me to come in the dressing room with you?" I asked.
"Come on in," he grumbled.
I sat on the bench in the dressing room while he started to change. One second later, the most putrid smell hit my sensitive nostrils. Had someone left some dead fish or perhaps a dead raccoon in the dressing room? I quickly covered my nose and screamed, "What is that HORRIBLE smell?!"
Ian was oblivious. What smell? I scanned the small room, looking for the source of the offensive odor. Ian stood there looking bewildered, one leg stuck into the new jeans, his shoes sitting on the floor beside him. "Ian, is that smell coming from your feet?!" Because he had just gone through a growth spurt, we'd just purchased some new shoes for him a week previously. Could it be the Nikes? I sniffed at the shoes. Nope. Nice and fresh. "Seriously, Ian! What is that horrible smell?"
"It might be my socks," he said innocently.
I thought back to the previous weeks. The last couple times I had folded laundry I had questioned Ian about the lack of socks in his clean clothes pile. I had even asked at one point, "Ian, why does everyone else have 5 or 6 pair of clean socks in their piles, and you have zero?" I had gotten a mumble in response, and hadn't pursued it.
After thinking through the lack of socks in his laundry pile I hesitantly asked, "Ian. How long has it been since you changed your socks?"
"I put these on this morning."
"But are they clean?"
"I took my socks off last night, put them in my sock bucket, and put them back on this morning," he said. Like that was perfectly normal.
"Ian!!! You HAVE TO CHANGE YOUR SOCKS DAILY!! PUT THEM IN THE LAUNDRY BASKET EVERY NIGHT SO THEY WILL GET WASHED!"
"But my socks get lost in the wash. I always end up with only 1 sock per pair."
"Ian. Seriously! How long has it been since those socks you have on have been washed?"
"It's been a couple of weeks. But I take them off every night!"
We promptly left the dressing room, bought the jeans, and hurried home so Ian could bathe his stinky feet and put on a pair of fresh socks. I washed the 2 week old socks that night. And what do you know? One got lost. I have a feeling I will not be seeing any of Ian's socks in the laundry again this week!
