You Knock My Dirty Socks Off

Yesterday I had the wonderful opportunity to spend some time with Parker, and oh the adventures we had!  It started out with me asking my family to come with me to the high school to run bleachers.  Parker initially said no, but changed his mind when he decided that we would probably be going to Todd's afterwards and there was a really good chance he could borrow the first season of Psych from him.  So we biked down, Parker sat and read his book in the shade while I re-enacted Rocky. (It looked the same too if you were wondering; kids flooding to follow me, birds scattering, etc.  NBD)
 


Afterwards, while we were riding our bikes to Todd's, Parker and I had some interesting conversations.   We talked about how truly amazing it is that we can build our own houses and they don't fall apart like a house of cards.  We made the connection that Jordan, Mom and I had a temperature issue with our feet.   We all cannot stand to have our feet hot, and therefore take off our shoes/socks at every possible opportunity.  Parker proceeded to tell me that before Jordan's mission, he would build a huge pile of dirty socks in the corner of the den because every time while he was playing computer it would get a little toasty in there, and Jordan would take his socks off and absent mindedly chuck them over his shoulder.  Parker said the pile would get pretty big, and would only be cleaned up if Jordan ran out of socks and needed them washed.  (My mom rarely sets foot in the den for reasons exactly like this one.  She has to keep her sanity somehow while living with us hooligans!)  Personally, I tend to pile my socks at the end of my bed, shoved in the bottom of my sheets.  Last time I changed my sheets I untucked the sheet only to be showered by a colorful display of dirty socks.  I counted and found 20 mismatched socks - most that had been missing from their mate for quite some time.  It would be normal if I were to kick off both socks during the night, but nope I just don't really care for socks on my left feet apparently. 

This also might explain why my mom would sometimes catch me as a child with my left foot on the wall in the middle of the night, or my left leg hanging off the bed.  It cannot be contained, it needs to be free!

You may not have ever wondered or wanted to know about my sleeping habits, but now you know.

Later we decided we were STARVING so we set out on a trip for a make shift meal.  I wanted a snow cone so we stopped to get that first.  Now you're thinking how much you want a snow cone, so let me help you out there by telling you that it was the most disgusting snow cone I've ever tasted. EVER.  Parker and I couldn't even finish the snow cone it was that terrible.  So, the moral to this story is to never trust a snow cone that is extremely large, costs $2 for the smallest least large size, takes 30 minutes to prepare and comes from a yellow shack with a hula skirt.  End of story, you've been warned.