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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Mothers (05/02/05)

TITLE: The Reason God Made Us
By Dori Knight


I wouldn’t have been in the hospital on Mother’s Day, if not for the socks. Sock Management is a full time job, which does not allow for trivialities like bronchitis or doctor’s visits.

Some believe that socks are vaporized into lint, by mysterious clothes-dryer forces, but this is pure nonsense. The truth is that if you don’t stop them, socks will migrate under the bed and reproduce exponentially.

Mothers need to keep abreast of sock activity; after all, socks are the reason God made us, so I ignored the hacking cough until I found myself in a hospital bed, gasping for air. “It’s pneumonia,” the doctor said to my husband. “She’s going to be here a few days.”

A few days? Rogue socks could take over the world in the course of a few days. By the time I was discharged, the entire sock-wearing world would be walking around in Birkenstocks.

I tried to object, but Nurse Judy shot mysterious fluids into my IV line, which encouraged the growth of moss on my brain. Within five minutes, I had forgotten how to blink and to swallow, much less talk. The best I could do was “Ah-mee-doo-da-shosh,” before I fell into a vegetative state.

The following morning, Nurse Judy reappeared with more brain moss. “Time to wake up! We have to take our pain medicine.” I don’t know why she bothered waking me, just to knock me out again. Five minutes later, I was slobbering on myself.

Mossy brain, or no mossy brain, I had a responsibility to mankind: “The sosh … scosh …socks” I stuttered. “Must… stop … the socks.”

“Yes, dear” She picked up my chart and wrote “delusional” across the page. “You need to rest now.” Rest would have to wait, because just then, my family arrived for a visit. The girls perched in a row, on the empty bed next to me.

“Oh hey, you’re little birdies, aren’t you?” I cooed. “Here, birdie, birdie … come give Mommy a hug. They didn’t budge, but I heard the little one whisper to her sister, “Are you sure that’s Mommy?”

“Of course I’m Mommy, little bird. I’m your mother. I’m the Queen of Birdie Mothers, and this is my nest. Do you like my nest, little birdie?”

My husband interrupted me. “We brought you some lunch.” He said. “Go ahead, girls, give Mommy her sandwich.”

The middle child crossed the room tentatively, dropped the sandwich on my tray, and scooted back to safety.

I found the contents of the bag to be very exciting. “A club sandwich! And a pickle! Wow!” I tried to take a bite of the enormous sandwich, but I was having a hard time finding my mouth, and most of it flopped out of the bread and onto my lap. It touched my heart that they had remembered my favorite sandwich, so I began to cry. “I don’t deserve such wonderful children.” I sobbed.

“Mom … you’ve got a tomato on your neck.” I fumbled for it, found it, and stuck it in my pajama pocket.

“Why don’t we put the sandwich away for later.” My husband suggested. “Let’s open presents.”

“Open mine first,” the little one said, and climbed up into my bed.

“Look how pretty you are in your sundress and … and … where are your socks?”

My worst fear had been realized. “Where are the socks? Are they under the bed? Have you let the socks under the bed? Oh Lord, have mercy on us!” I cried. “We’re all done for!”

“It’s 90 degrees outside, dear,” my husband said. “She wanted to wear sandals.”

“And the socks …?”

“The socks are all washed, dried and put away.” He assured me. “I saw to it.”

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Yes, dear, I’m sure.”

I lay back on my pillow, confused. Had I been wrong? Were socks not the threat I once thought them to be? What would this mean to the job security of Mothers around the world? Were we no longer needed?

“Here, Mommy … open it.” My daughter thrust a homemade card into my hand, and all of my fears and concerns about socks and motherhood melted away.

It read, “Please come home soon, Mommy, ‘cause we need your love. Happy Mother’s Day.”

I drifted asleep, smiling and secure in my newfound knowledge: Socks come and go, and are soon forgotten, but a mother’s love is always remembered.

After all, love is the reason God made us.

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This article has been read 1453 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Dixie Phillips05/09/05
So refreshing! I laughed out loud. I'm in the middle of laundry and on several "sock hunts" as we speak. Too many of our socks are widowed dying to find their mates, which are in hiding! This is great! Sounds like a real winner to me!
Corinne Smelker 05/09/05
Ah - I am glad I found you! Loved it! ROFL when I read it!
Jan Ackerson 05/09/05
Kyle Chezum05/09/05
Wow, this was very creative and humorous! I loved it!
Helga Doermer05/09/05
I loved it and can relate to the sock theme. Good to know we are needed for more than sock control.
Chris Miller05/09/05
I can relate to the obsession with one aspect of life. My latest one is pulling up every last dandelion in the yard. Humorous and heart warming.
John Hunt05/10/05
Wonderfully funny and touching article!
Very nicely done.
Lynda Lee Schab 05/12/05
LOL - too funny! I love a good laugh and this one delivered. Very clever and entertaining. Wonderful writing!
Blessings, Lynda
Val Clark05/13/05
A delightful tale, told with winning humour.
Suzanne R05/14/05
This was a lovely read! Well done. Very entertaining. As a 37 year old who is temporarily living with parents, I have two odd socks held hostage by my mother at the moment until their mates are found. Mum still is performing her motherly role beautifully. Thanks for sharing.
dub W05/15/05
Wonderful, creative, touching, sock-it-to-em style. Bravo.
Cheri Hardaway 05/15/05
Loved it! Very funny! Thanks for setting us free from sock-patrol! Blessings, Cheri
This was the greatest! You are just too funny. I totally get where your're coming from. I hava a draw called, "Socks without Parnters."

My kids search there now when they can't find the other one.(:
vicki mccollum05/16/05
This is so funny! I laughed all the way through it! I can relate...there's too many socks, and never any that have a mate!
Glenn A. Hascall05/16/05
And you wonder why I asked you to be a co,umnist at CT. figure I should leave a note since my own beautiful bride has resprted to simply finding a sock in the same general shape as another and linking them together for my future use. Socks are a far greater danger, Dori than even national security.

Corgrats on the win. Still have the tomato in your pocket? Ewwww.

Deborah Porter 05/16/05
Dori, I knew it! Pull another bed alongside and let me join you. My son, Matt, asked me the other day where all these missing socks go. I said, quite seriously, that they are sucked into a black hole. He wasn't sure if I was kidding for a while there. Thanks for a wonderful laugh dear friend. You were a refreshing and delightful winner. Hmmm... a breath of fresh air in fact. Love, Deb
Debbie OConnor05/16/05
Wow! Great fun, wonderful descriptions...loved it! Congratulations. So glad you're back! :)
Amy Michelle Wiley 05/16/05
Hahahaha! That was hilarious and so well written. Congratulations on the win.
Sherri Ward05/17/05
Okay, I admit it - I laughed til I cried! I had just left the kitchen where I was trying to explain to my middle son exactly why I am so busy... I have never seen it explained so well!