Recently the better half has stumbled upon a fascination with Sock Monkeys. Yeah, you know, the wee brown monkey looking stuffed animal made from socks. Yes, socks.
With Valentine’s Day fast upon us, I knew exactly what to get her–a Sock Monkey.
I knew I’d seen them at our local Orscheln’s (it’s a farm supply kinda store), so yesterday I ran in to grab a Sock Monkey. Only they didn’t have any.
“Sock monkeys? Oh, they’re back by the socks.” I was informed when I enquired. Sweet! “But it’s only the kits…”
Kits, plural, was b.s. They had ONE kit. One kit containing blue socks. Oh, frak me, this is starting to look like a fail. The better half wants a brown damned Sock Monkey.
Wait. Wait! Look for the socks! I mean, hell, they are made out of socks. Ahhh! There it is, brown socks! With big red heels! Yes!
To the front register I went, snagging a bag of red licorice as I arrived. The better half loves licorce.
I paid for the socks, Sock Monkey kit, and licorice and walked back out to the truck where the better half was patiently waiting. And, I’m sure, wondering why I told her, loudly, “you can’t come in with me! I’ll be right out!”
Since I was going to be out of town for the big V-day, I plopped the bag in her lap, exclaiming, “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey!”
She looked into the bag and smiled, “ohhhh, hon, you’re soooo sweet to me! Licorice and socks! Thank you!”
Wait. What? Does she really think I just acted that secretive to hand her a bag of damned socks? Especially after bitching about the condition of her sock drawer the day before? (I mean, really, the women never gets rid of old socks, the drawer is terrifying.)
“Honey, look CLOSER.”
“Whuh?” she said as she dug into the bag.
And she then proceeded to make a sound I have NEVER heard uttered from my better half’s throat. Sort of a bass ‘wheeeeeeiiit’ sound of joy. It was, to put it mildly, weird.
But then she looked up at me, grinning and amazed, and said, “You got me Sock Monkey fixin’s!” Way to go, Captain Obvious!
