The stroller raced through the Mall, with Samuel enjoying the ride.  With the revised harness, there was little else for him to do.  He had ditched a shoe back by Godiva, so he was pleased.

The Mommy came to a stop at the Mall Christmas tree, where Santa was seated on the big throne.  Without much pause, she replaced the retrieved shoe, and hoisted up the surprised Samuel.  Dang.  She’s gotten quick these days.

Samuel found himself on Santa’s lap, peering up at the jovial man with the halo of white hair and beard.  “Ho, Ho, Ho…”

At mid-Ho!, Samuel stuck his index finger up into Santa’s nostril.  Up yours, jolly old elf.

I know.  I know about....

Click, flash!  The camera captured the moment. 

Santa wrapped his gloved hand around Samuel’s and brought it down.  He’s been trained for this.  Samuel decided.

Santa bent his head down to Samuel and spoke.  “I know all about you.  I know what you did to the cat.  The scissors and all.  I know.”

Samuel grew still.  That event had not gone well for either of them.

Then Santa whispered into Samuel’s ear.  “I know about….” 

Samuel was stunned.  How could Santa know that?

Then Samuel was back in the stroller, gazing dully at Santa, who tapped his temple.  “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

Christmas in the Sock Drawer

It is Christmas everywhere, and the sock drawer is no different.  Sock drawers everywhere gather on Christmas Eve to celebrate this special night; they don’t understand it, but they recognize its importance.

The leaders of this tight-knit community are the compression socks.  Being the most expensive and well-traveled, they have stay mated for many years.  Given the honor of being hand-washed, they have maintained their close bond for an eternity in sock-time.

“Alright then, everyone!  Everyone, let’s welcome our newcomers to Sock Drawer:  Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph, Mr. and Mrs. Snowmen, and Mr. and Mrs. Candy Cane!  We are glad to see some new heels and toes!”

The newcomers chuckle, and respond, “At Kohl’s, only 3 for $5!  Buy them now!”  They were limited in their language, being recently made in China.

Other theme socks gather around them in welcome.  Some were still with their mates, but most were now singles.  It is a sad fact in Sock Drawer that some mates never return from Land of Wash and Dry.  

“Let’s move on to the lighting of the tree!”  Mrs. Compression Sock called.  The one Christmas Tree sock came forward, followed by the white athletic socks carrying a mini-flashlight that had slid back into the corner, under a bunch of tangle knee-highs stockings (who were above a plebeian gathering like this).

With great ceremony, the oldest solo sock came forward.  It was a surgical slipper, brought to the drawer over ten years ago.  Ragged and faded with a chevron rubber pattern on the sole, it hobbled forward, its elastic nearly gone.

"Stretch your toes a little and join together as we light the tree!"  It pronounced in a thin worn voice.  A lone mitten clicked on flashlight.  A spontaneous sigh of awe erupted.  The newcomers were overcome, and wept, “95% cotton, 5% spandex!”

Mr. Compression sock cleared his throat and began singing the Christmas hymn, and was soon joined by footwear alike.

“Oh, Come all you footwear!  Cotton and Acrylic!

Oh come ye, oh come ye, to our Christmas sock!

Made in China, Vietnam and India.

Oh come ye plaids and sportswear!

Oh come ye plains and Gold Toes!

Oh come woolens and elastic

To see the Christmas tree!”

No gifts were exchanged, none were needed.  The time together, perhaps for this one time only, was enough.


P.S.  Starting today, some reflections from 2011 A-Z Challenge
will be posted.  Please click on the site shown here, or on the button on the right side.