Today I like: bagels
Listening to: old-school Madonna
So the other day, I was sitting down, completely preoccupied with something, probably mail, or paying bills, or some such thing, and Jason was trying to hurry me out the door. To go nowhere really, but he wanted to get there fast. I was dressed and pretty much ready, but I lacked one thing: socks.
I don't know if growing up in the country made me this way, but I have an affinity for bare feet. I always leave socks to the last possibly moment. When I'm at home, I just don't bother with socks. Jason thinks this is weird, and he obsessively feels my toes. If he judges them to be cold, he'll go get a pair of my slipper socks, the Tweeties, or the Poohs, and put them on my feet.
So of course while I was sitting, trying to get things done, I was still barefoot.
"I still need socks hun."
I thought that would discourage him a bit, and back off. It didn't.
He went and fetched me some socks, knelt down, and started putting them on my feet.
Eventually, I looked to see what was going on down there, and saw that I was wearing blue socks.
"I can't wear blue socks."
"Because, Jason, my pants are gray and my shoes are black. I have to wear socks that are either gray or black."
So he takes them off and goes back to the bedroom. Soon, I feel him putting a new pair of socks on my feet. Something feels very wrong.
"Jason, those are not the right socks."
"But they're gray, like you said!"
"Yes, but they're athletic socks. These are nice pin-striped pants. Those are very expensive, pretty shoes. I need dress socks."
So he bounds back to the bedroom, and I think maybe he'll just leave me alone now. I should know better.The next pair that I feel (and by feel, I mean that Jason doesn't know how to put socks on. Thank goodness we don't have children. He shoves and pulls and complains that girl socks are too tiny.)don't seem to be an improvement. Am I brave enough to look down?
"Jason, those are red! Red athletic socks!"
He looks up at me, a huge grin on his face. He thinks he's just pulled a great prank on me. What a goober.
He has the right pair in his pocket, and puts them on my feet. Well, not exactly the right socks. They're gray, but with white flecks.
But in almost 5 years with this guy, I have learned one thing: not to push my luck. I bit my tongue, grabbed my purse and headed out, towards nowhere. Fast.