Fortune Socks: Are you a tucker or a tyer?
Honestly, fortune socks have nothing to do with whether or not you are a tucker or a tyer, except that they just won't work if you are a tyer.
Are you a tyer?
When my husband and I first got married, HE WANTED ME TO BE A TYER. Does life get any worse than that? I thought I knew this man! Who was this stranger suggesting that I change the way I fold the socks? I couldn't imagine being a tyer. I had always been a tucker! My mother was a tucker! Her mother was a tucker and I'm sure her mother was a tucker! Generations of tuckers and he's wanted me to be a TYER?
The tucker makes brown socks look like a giant, warm, cotton cocoon (or, if you look at it another way, poop). The socks are cozy with each other until the time comes that they must be separated and stuck on big, stinky human feet. Also, tucked socks offer lots of fun that tied socks cannot. My sister and I used to get two large piles of tucked socks and act like we were having a snowball fight. (That's what we have to do in Texas. I swear, I haven't had to REALLY wear a coat yet this winter. I saw kids wearing shorts to school today. It's annoying. It's supposed to be cold in January!)
The tyer just knots the poor things together. "Take that, socks!" is what every tyer probably says while doing laundry. Tying socks together is a bit too violent for me.
Actually, there are two reasons I'm not a tyer. The first reason is that it takes more effort, it seems. The second reason is that it does not allow for the making of fortune socks.
(You think I'm weird, don't you?)
Fortune socks is something I just made up, but maybe will actually do for real in the future for my kids. Maybe. This morning I tried it out on my husband. He gave me lots of sideways glances when I put four fortune socks before him.
"Fortune socks??? What are you talking about? There is nothing in these socks. You know there is nothing in these socks. You just want me to open them to look stupid."
"No, there is, there is! Open them."
This is what he saw once he finally believed me:
Once he took the slip of paper out, he started laughing and just stared at me for a while before he even read what I wrote. Sometimes I don't think he can believe that he ended up with me forever. Pray for him.
Here were his fortunes:
Gino is a co-worker that will often come and sit (and sit and sit) in the two chairs my husband has in front of his desk in his office. Though he liked the Gino fortune, I am convinced his favorite was the last one. That's what I tell myself anyway.
So, now the important question...how do you pair up your socks when doing laundry? This is important stuff! This will forever change our relationship!! I will either look at you with fondness or wonder how I can ever change your mind.
Are you a tyer?
When my husband and I first got married, HE WANTED ME TO BE A TYER. Does life get any worse than that? I thought I knew this man! Who was this stranger suggesting that I change the way I fold the socks? I couldn't imagine being a tyer. I had always been a tucker! My mother was a tucker! Her mother was a tucker and I'm sure her mother was a tucker! Generations of tuckers and he's wanted me to be a TYER?
The tucker makes brown socks look like a giant, warm, cotton cocoon (or, if you look at it another way, poop). The socks are cozy with each other until the time comes that they must be separated and stuck on big, stinky human feet. Also, tucked socks offer lots of fun that tied socks cannot. My sister and I used to get two large piles of tucked socks and act like we were having a snowball fight. (That's what we have to do in Texas. I swear, I haven't had to REALLY wear a coat yet this winter. I saw kids wearing shorts to school today. It's annoying. It's supposed to be cold in January!)
 |
| THE TUCKER |
The tyer just knots the poor things together. "Take that, socks!" is what every tyer probably says while doing laundry. Tying socks together is a bit too violent for me.
 |
| THE TYER |
Actually, there are two reasons I'm not a tyer. The first reason is that it takes more effort, it seems. The second reason is that it does not allow for the making of fortune socks.
(You think I'm weird, don't you?)
Fortune socks is something I just made up, but maybe will actually do for real in the future for my kids. Maybe. This morning I tried it out on my husband. He gave me lots of sideways glances when I put four fortune socks before him.
"Fortune socks??? What are you talking about? There is nothing in these socks. You know there is nothing in these socks. You just want me to open them to look stupid."
"No, there is, there is! Open them."
This is what he saw once he finally believed me:
 |
| See the little fortune inside? |
Once he took the slip of paper out, he started laughing and just stared at me for a while before he even read what I wrote. Sometimes I don't think he can believe that he ended up with me forever. Pray for him.
Here were his fortunes:
Gino is a co-worker that will often come and sit (and sit and sit) in the two chairs my husband has in front of his desk in his office. Though he liked the Gino fortune, I am convinced his favorite was the last one. That's what I tell myself anyway.
So, now the important question...how do you pair up your socks when doing laundry? This is important stuff! This will forever change our relationship!! I will either look at you with fondness or wonder how I can ever change your mind.