Sock Hell

I’m jumping on board Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. One of the prompts for today was to write about socks. (Ok, so it was supposed to be a funny story about socks.)

I’m sure it will be, to you. In fact, I’m sure that in about – oh, say – 10 years, it will be to me as well.

Right now? Not so much.

As you may know by now, Pea is the QUEEN of the tantrum. (She would say “no, I’m the PRINCESS”).
Whatever.  The fact of the matter is that on a near daily basis, for the past three months or so, we have had meltdowns of EPIC proportions. Anything could trigger it – it could be something small, say, I opened her curtains. It could be something big – I might have made my bed before she came to snuggle with me in the morning. It may be indeterminable.

Most recently, it has been her socks.

They hurt her feet. They are too small. They are too tight. They are too big.
They are crooked.

They get between her toes. (And, no, its not strings. I’ve checked.)

They are (gasp): STUPID.

(Author’s note: this word is NOT allowed in my house. )

Seriously, there is so much drama going on regarding her feet, I need to get a video of her – throwing them across the room, only to put them on again – so she can take them off. And throw them. At me. Or bite them, tugging them between her teeth like a dog with a rope toy. Or empty the entire drawer onto the floor, yelling “stupid, stupid, stupid. I hate them ALL.” And then getting really ticked off when I refuse to put them back for her.

Right now, she has THREE pairs of socks that do not bother her. (Most days.) Coincidentally, they happen to be princess socks. (The irony, right?)

I’d laugh about it, if we weren’t perpetually late for school because her socks aren’t right. Its really so ridiculous, I should be laughing. But that just pisses her off all the more.

Sooo…..if anyone has pointers on how to handle the Sock Diva, you just pipe in right now, ‘kay?

In the meantime, I’m off to the factory outlet, where I found them for £1 for 2 pair. She’s going to open her drawer, and find it full of Sleeping Beauty, Belle and Ariel socks – and nothing else. If you hear fireworks coming from the Welsh border, yeah, its just us.

And our socks.


  1. The sock Diva…well there's one I haven't encountered yet. I have four kids so I think I've experienced it all, but then this. I love it though because then at least you had a handy prompt for Mama Kat's (where I found you by the way!) I'm still trying to figure out what to write about. I, unfortunately, don't have one single sock story, funny or otherwise…sigh…I'm going to snoop through your blog, I suspect there's going to be alot more where the Sock Diva came from!

  2. I'm quite sure these issues are ahead for me too. My 15 month old is already turning into something of a diva.

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