Posted by: kerryannekay | April 1, 2012

Dude, Where’s My Sock? – Part 3

Part Three of Three:  After a week, my sock was still missing.  I was tempted to have it listed on a milk carton.  But, then I was reminded by students that it was only a sock.  I went around my business that week with the thought of my missing sock in the back of my head.  One night I saw something white in Alfalfa’s mouth as he ran by the foot of the couch on a b-line for the bed.  “HA!” I yelled as I jumped to my feet, “My sock!”  Alfalfa was long gone by the time I got on my hands and knees to check for my missing sock under my bed.  “Dude,” I said, “I just want my sock back!” to the empty space under the bed.

“I’m telling you. That mess was NOT my fault!”

I went back to watching TV.  Nothing good was on and my mind drifted as I nodded off.  It brought me to an Alfalfa in Wonderland place.  I had a dream that my sock had fallen down some guinea pig hole.  It was running from me and Alfalfa was sitting on a mushroom smoking hookah asking me, “Who are you?”  Thank goodness Alfalfa’s loud protest for his dinner woke me up before I had fallen too far into that fantasy land.  Shaking my head to clear the strange visions from my head, I got up to feed the master of the house.  I went to the refrigerator, got his food, and feed him.  As I was walking back to the refrigerator, I noticed that there was a piece of white sticking out from under the bed.  My mind yelled, ‘THE SOCK!’  I fell to my knees and grabbed at the sock.

As I got my hand around the sock, two things happened:  First, I saw Alfalfa charging at me from the corner of my eye.  Second, I felt some sort of gooey, sticky, nasty substance on the sock.  Now, as you know from my previous blogs, I tend to be a calm person with understated reactions to many unexpected events.   In other words, I freak out quite easily at the smallest thing.  This situation was no exception.  I yelled, dropped the sock, and held my right hand up in the air like it had some foreign disease.  I truly wondered if I needed to call the CDC for a treatment protocol.   “YUCK!” I yelled as I sprung to my feet and dashed for the kitchen sink.

I turned the hot water on and shoved my hand under the water hoping to get the offending substance off of my hand as soon as possible.  “Nasty!  Nasty!  Nasty…” I kept repeating as I scrubbed my hand with soap, hot water, and a sponge.  As I calmed down, I noticed that the water was incredibly hot and I was burning my hand.   I yanked from out of the streaming stream of water.  “Great,” I mumbled as I inspected my hand for signs of burns.  I turned off the water and grabbed a dish towel.

I walked back into the living room drying my hands.  Alfalfa was standing next to the bed with the missing sock.  He looked ready to bolt if I made a move for him.  He was huffing at me in anger.  “Don’t worry,” I explained as I walked past him to the couch, “I don’t want that NASTY sock back anymore…”  Alfalfa ran under the bed with sock in tow.  I sat down to watch TV again.  I had decided that my sock was lost forever.  Several minutes later Alfalfa walked past me and over to his cage to eat.  “So,” I teased when he was past me.  He turned and looked at me with indignation, “I see you have a girlfriend…”

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