It’s no secret that I am fascinated by my 11-year-old son Jacob’s habit of taking off his socks and discarding them all around the house.  Never did I imagine that he had a legitimate excuse.

I had just returned from the gym.  I had good reason to be proud.  I had hauled myself there, after being encouraged by my wife to get some exercise.  I felt better.  I had burned some calories.  I had arrived home in time to shower, before dinner.  Life was good.

Finishing my shower, I was informed that dinner was being served.  I quickly got dressed, hustled to the dinner table, remembered to wash my hands, returned to the table, looked down, and much to my dread found that I had left my clean socks by my dinner plate.  Yep, I had every intention of putting on my fresh footwear, but for the time being I was guilty.  I had absentmindedly placed my socks by the silverware.  My son’s strange tendencies reflected in his father’s actions. 

Jacob somewhat annoyed that I wanted to photograph my misplaced socks (in the foreground), with him in the background.

Then I remembered a photo from December that had never been posted and had been placed directly into the CookiesbyDave.com archives.  Opening a few files, there it was.  Proof.  Proof that my son never stood a chance.  Proof that the absentminded misplacing of socks is hereditary for there on the computer screen was a photo of my wife’s socks.  Socks, which had apparently leapt out of her slippers resting on the living room floor and onto our oversized ottoman.  (By the way, did I mention that my wife is beautiful, talented, smart, and forgiving and that publishing a picture of her gym socks online in no way changes any of that?)

Charlene’s “Incredible Jumping Socks.”

Two parents.  Both misplacing socks.  One son, who never really stood a chance.