We all have quirks, and believe me, I have tons. Just ask Josh. I have this funny habit of wearing socks to bed. As soon as my tootsies are safely under the covers, though, I scrape those darn socks right off of my feet and let them swim in the waves of sheets that cover my bed. Let me point out at this time that Josh hates this. I mean he HATES it. With a passion. The fact that at any given time I may have 3 or 4 pairs of socks swimming around in our bed makes him crazy. And still I continue.
There have been mornings when I look at my freshly made bed (which I do most mornings because I'm weird like that. I even put the decorative pillows back in place) and there are little lumps where the socks are living just below the surface. Sometimes one poor sock gets lost (maybe he's trying to escape) and falls between the mattress and the frame. It slips underneath the bed, destined to be a new Jack chew-toy, all the while leaving his lonely mate to fend for himself. And it has happened on more than one occasion that I've washed my sheets and, lo and behold, there is a sock clinging on to a pillowcase for dear life. Why? Why don't I just take those socks off of my feet, throw them in the wash, and then slip peacefully into a bed void of laundry?
Because if I did that, I'd have to unload the drier, and that is a whole different quirk.
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