After my last post about my how my husband leaves his dirty socks on the couch (and after my baby once again tried to shove his dirty socks into her mouth), I pleaded with him to please stop putting your nasty, dirty socks on the couch. To his credit, he’s making an effort – though not always successfully. And apparently, I should have been less specific.
Last week, I draped a holiday banner on our staircase, trying to give our home a fun, festive feel. I thought it looked pretty nice. That is, until yesterday when I noticed that his nasty, dirty socks are hanging off of it. His (predictable) response? “Well, at least it’s not the couch!”
As someone who gets hot very easily, I should enjoy Winter, right? No worries about sweating or having to crank the air conditioner. And yet, here’s one reason I dislike Winter:
Yes, I said socks. See, my husband goes from wearing flip-flops in the Summer to automatically wearing 2 pairs of socks at the first sign of a chill in the air. In the dead of Winter, he’s been known to pile 3 pairs of socks on his feet. (How he gets his shoes on over all th0se socks, I have no idea.) You might be wondering what my problem is with socks. Well, I don’t actually have a problem with socks themselves but I do have a problem with dirty socks on my couch.
And that’s exactly what I find every night because my husband has a fun little habit of stripping his dirty, grungy top layer of socks off and putting them on the couch.
So they’re sitting there when we occassionally (okay, always) eat dinner in front of the tv. And they’re sitting there when my 5 month old baby rolls around on the couch, planting her face in them. Or, even worse, when she goes to grab them and put them in her mouth (because right now everything goes in her mouth).
I ask my husband why he can’t just put them in the hamper and he gives me a blank stare as if I’m speaking a foreign language. Who knew that hamper wasn’t a part of my husband’s english vocabulary? So yeah, disgusting dirty socks left on the couch that end up in my daughter’s mouth are why I dislike Winter. (And don’t even get me started on my husband’s love of turtlenecks. Ugh…)