Socks

My son hates them. He'll wear them if he's cold, but otherwise, he starts pulling them off as soon as I put them on.

I thought he would hate shoes, but it turns out that he associates shoes with going outside, and he loves to go outside (most of the time); consequently, he's just fine with shoes.

Because he's sleeping in a footed sleepsack and not a blanket (he's such a good tosser-turner that I've not yet dared to make the transition to a blanket), socks are something of an imperative at night...but even in the night, he seems to pull them off, or perhaps he manages to rub them off somehow. I've gotten to the point where I sneak into his room long after he's gone to sleep, just to put his socks on.

And I have to admit that this has turned into one of my favorite rituals of the day: tip-toeing into his room, gazing at his sleeping form for a moment--slightly foreign to me, somehow, when he's so deeply asleep--then slipping socks on his feet. I always marvel at the fact that he doesn't wake up. Maybe, however, he has a nightmare every night about a sock fiend who's constantly chasing him around. At any rate--I'll always treasure those little socks that he hates so much...and I'll always remember these little rituals involved with caring for him--rituals that make him, well, himself; and a whole world unto himself.