Sock Warning

Scarlet Henson

Hello, my name is Socko, Socko Taco. You can just call me Boss though. I am a very clean, nice sock. I am always cleansed thoroughly in my owner John’s Kenmore. John and I are tight. His foot is always there for me, and I’m always there for his foot.

Once, I heard him describe me as a super white sock with blue things on the top. I appreciate his effort for trying to define my beauty, but I don’t know if even I myself can. I am a magnificently, pure, white tube sock with three royal blue rings wrapped around the upper tubey part much like the rings of Saturn. John always wears my wife and I at least once a week. We have so much fun going to the basketball court and getting soaked with sweat.

Every time we go, I feel like I just burned off every bad fiber on my tube. I love it when John and I get home from the courts, and he throws me in the dirty clothes hamper with all my other stinky buds. We normally get to have guy talk, but today, John did something I never expected him to do. I was clean and fabulous, and he grabbed me but not my wife and threw me in the dirty hamper. I was so upset that I started producing fuzzies on my soft fabric.

Now, I am a mess, and I am separated from my pair. I don’t understand why he is doing this to me. I do remember him talking about buying new socks, but I didn’t think he would buy new tube socks…

Oh, but just when I thought I was just going crazy, I find the problem! There were two new pairs of sweaty tube socks, almost as white and glorious as I, sitting upon his dirty clothes as if they were king and queen of this hamper! I could not allow this to happen!

“Hey, punk! Yeah, I’m talking to you! Get your tubular over here before I bleach it,” I said.

Right after I said that, this new guy says, “Whoa, dude… Don’t be hatin’. Just keep it mellow, man. Like, yeah…”

Then, his wife butted in and was all like, “Like, yeah.”

I could tell these were some crazy Nikes. All of the sudden, I kicked those sons of fabrics in their faces! After I kicked them, they fell on the tiled floor right in front of Scruffy, John’s new puppy! I don’t think there was any chance of them escaping the dog, especially since he was in the biting stage of canine life. I took care of those socks.

So, this is just a warning to all you white tube socks out there, John is my human, and I am his sock. You can NEVER change that, and if you try, you will have to have a nice conversation with Scruffy. Thank you; that is all.