Yesterday Nick walked into the bedroom, where I was sorting laundry. "Mom," he said, "Can you sew my socks?" And he showed me the bottoms of his feet. The holes in his heels were as big as... well, his heels. He could have kept pulling and worn them as legwarmers.
"Nick, those socks are done," I said. "Throw them away when you take them off later."
Nick began to cry. "But I LOVE these socks! These are my FAVORITE socks!"
It doesn't matter that the socks are cheap Target socks. It doesn't matter that I tell him I will buy him more. It just matters that I'm Throwing Something Away!
Nick used to have the job of emptying the smaller trash cans from around the house. I took that job away from him, though, because half of the things I threw away ended up on Nick's nightstand. Once, I found an empty Listerine bottle there. Why is this special? So special he can't part with it?
That same afternoon I was doing parent stuff in his school classroom and found six empty yogurt squeeze tubes. He said he was keeping them for the jokes printed on the sides...
Should I worry?
3 comments:
As a pack rat myself, I will not poke fun at Nick for attaching sentimental value to ridiculous things.
He's still so little, but if this keeps up when he's a teenager, maybe it will be time to show him that movie Grey Gardens.
Maybe you should worry, but I can't stop laughing!!!
I have the same problem & agree with Jamie!
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