After I said goodnight to the boys, I walked through the living room on my way to curling up with a good book. There on the floor beneath me was one of my 8-year-old Sam’s socks. Letting out a sigh (a sigh that only a father can utter, when discovering his child’s clothes randomly strewn about the house), I went to get my camera. Picking up the sock would be one thing, but getting good material for my blog, well that takes priority.

A sock belonging to the boy they call Sam.

Immediately after taking the picture, our beagle Kirby ran up, grabbed the sock, and proudly displayed his find. Then I remembered Kirby’s suspicious behavior at bedtime, how Kirby slinked out of Sam and Sam’s younger brother Ben’s room. All of the stuffed animals were present and secure, so I figured there was no need to panic. Well, it turns out that Mr. Kirby had retrieved a sock from their floor, as a bedtime snack.

Kirby with his trophy sock.

Reaching down to get Sam’s sock, I saw two holes worn into the sock. Not holes recently made by Kirby, but rather holes made by an active young man, who tends to shuffle his feet. Kirby had actually done me a favor and weeded out a worn sock. Good dog, now if you would only learn how to darn a sock, instead of spending your free time chasing squirrels.