When I was young I imagined my socks talking to each other. Here, let me give you some visuals of the young Candace with talking socks:
|Uncle Lee, Marianne, Me, Ben|
|Connie, Sharon, Cammie, Amy (all cousins), Me|
I'm not sure when this totally strange and amazing thing started happening, but probably some time between the time when these two photos were taken. Every night, while I was asleep, my socks would discuss which pair I picked that day, and which sock got put on the left foot and which one on the right. There would be guesses about which pair would be picked the next day. They probably had a conversation or two with my underpants, too. The striped sock would make the white sock feel bad for being so boring. The big ugly poofy socks would lament about never being chosen. One time the forest green socks even asked the hot pink socks out on a date. Have you ever tried choosing a pair of socks to wear when they are all talking to each other...and you? It's very difficult. And, downright crazy.
I tell you these things because I realized that there is no more sock-talk going on in my drawer. You see, some how, between then and now, I got past it. And that, my friends, means there's hope for me.