Evil, talking socks.

Scene: Getting ready for our annual camping trip and we’ve been charging the batteries for the walkie-talkies.  Grant had a dental check-up a few hours before and had chosen plastic vampire teeth from the dentist’s “goodie box” as a reward for being a good patient not squirming too much.

I noticed a lone sock sitting on the dining room table.  (Odd, because they’re usually under the table.)

As I head over to get the sock, laughter starts coming from it.  Yes, from the sock.  I pick it up and find a walkie-talkie in it.

I know exactly who is on the other end of the walkie-talkie… and I know he’s within earshot, so there’s no need for me to get all breaker-breaker ten-four on him.  I yell down the hallway.

Me: “Graaaaaant!”
Grant: (Through the sock) “Yes?”
Me:  (Still yelling) “What’s with the walkie-talkie in the sock?”
Grant: (Still through the sock) “It’s the Evil Talking Sock you wanted.”
Me: (Still yelling, but now also trying not to laugh) “I never said I wanted or needed an evil, talking sock.  I never even thought it.”

He has now joined me in the dining room.
Grant: “Oh.  Ok.  Well, then it’s to scare Conner when he walks by.” 
Me: “Carry on then, carry on.”

I don’t know if he managed to scare his big brother.  However, I do now have another theory as to how I wind up with so many single socks around here.

If you liked this, search here for more Exchange of the Day posts.