I find it funny that everyone has something that makes them delirously happy. I think mine might be a little simpler than most people, but none the less, I have one thing that makes me giddy.

So here it is....fresh clean socks.

There is almost nothing that I love more than a basket full of clean socks just out of the dryer. For those of you trying to find the bad in this....this isn't some wierd fettish. My obsession with cleans socks actually stems from my childhood. And so the story begins like this....

When I was younger...around 10 or so, began the struggle for clean socks. I had an older sister that hated me. She was mean to me in every way possible..and to this day, we are still not sisters.

I don't want you to get the wrong impression, we had evertything that we needed, as well as, socks enough for everyone. It's just that we did not have things in excess and this is where things got interesting. Since we did not have an abundance of money, we only asked for things that were really needed. In some way, I always knew it to be this way. Maybe is was because I was a very observant child and understood that money was scarce. Even then I knew that my Mom was stressed and was working hard to hold us all together. My mom being the hero that she is, is for another blog.

So, when socks became scarce...I did not complain. My wonderful older sister was very lazy and did not like to do laundry. Actually she did not like to do anything so this was not a suprise. I will have to remember to tell you about the eight vacuum cleaners that she broke so she wouldn't be asked to vacuum anymore (it actually worked...but guess who got to do the vacuuming!). Since she didn't do laundry, my wonderful sister took all my socks and would not give them back. Anytime I complained, she said they were hers and told my mother that I lost mine and was trying to take hers. Taking her socks only resulted in physical retribution that I was not fond of...so I did not take said socks back. This left me with the one pair of socks that were on my toes at the moment and she could not take.

I guarded my precious socks as if they were spun with the finest silk thread. I washed them every morning, by hand in the sink and dried them on the fan before school. These socks were my precious treasure. On so many occasions, we fought about other items that were mine that she took out of spite, but none affected me quite so as my beloved socks. We recieved new socks every so often (always at the beginning of the school year and other times) and the same pattern followed. Wicked sister stole said socks to not have to do laundry each and every time.

It's funny that I still bring this up to her with the same bitterness ...but with so many years of festering behind it. She still denies that they were mine....and I want you all to know...SHE IS LYING.

So now, I have an obsession with clean socks. I will not wear socks more than once and I love to take them off at the end of the day. So now, you understand my love for fresh clean and bountiful piles of socks.

They make me giddy!!

Gotta go...think that was the dryer calling me.......