I have been married to a wonderful man for Sixteen years, which is not say he is perfect or the marriage is perfect. I just know what I have and try to make sure he knows I know. Things have not always been that way. In the first few years of marriage I constantly thought to myself and sometimes out loud, “why won’t he, why didn’t he” and sometimes those questions ended in an argument or both he and I wondering why we ever entered into this unholy union. There was one particular thing that my husband did (still does) that drove me absolutely bananas. So much so that every time he did it, I made a point to make a big deal out of it. What did he do you ask? Every single night, before he came to bed, he would remove his socks right next to the bed. There they would be the next morning, mocking me, laughing at me and begging me to harass him about it. And like I said, I made a stink about it every single time. I was so upset about it one day that I told a girlfriend at work about it and she looked at me as if I had lost my head. I tried to explain that leaving the socks was metaphorical for him not caring what I wanted and doing things that he knows upset me. She still looked at me as if I had two heads. Finally, I said “what Liz? Why are you looking at me like that? She said; just pick the damn socks up, problem solved. It was my turn to look at her like she was an alien. I said why should I do that? They are his socks. She said “well either pick them up or continue to go through this every day”. It’s your choice. She went on to explain that taking his socks off and leaving them by the bed didn’t mean anything other than just that. Those socks have nothing to do with you girl. Just pick them up and go on with your day. To this day, through three apartments and three houses I am still picking up socks. But you know what? It’s just socks.
Written by Mrs. Gena Jackson.