TUBE SOCK AND TUESDAY UNDERWEAR. Running, Pedaling, and Sliding Feet First Into Faith.
Blue, red, blue? Green, yellow, green? Red, white, red? Hmm…this WAS the most important decision she would make today. She waited; instead she bounced lightly across her bedroom to her white princess dresser and jerked open her underwear drawer. The drawer see-sawed loudly back and forth as it jumped and screeched on and off of its abused and misused sliding track. From the other twin bed, in her overpopulated bedroom, her little-sister groaned and rolled over. With an eye roll, and a who-cares shrug, the drawer fell open giving her space to carelessly rummage through the corralled pile of underwear. She chose her Tuesday underwear, even though it was Saturday, but mostly because they weren’t pink. She hated pink and all things too girlie. Her mom had bought her Sunday thru Monday underwear, with the day of the week printed across the front; she only wore Tuesday and Thursday though, the others were pink. Climbing into her cut off, jean shorts, she scanned her bedroom for her treasured t-shirt. Crawling on her belly she looked sideways under her bed, reaching for her well-worn favorite. The smelly or dirty question did not come up as she pulled the faded green t-shirt, with the full screen print of a wild stallion, over her head. If her mom would quit saying no, she would wear that t-shirt every day. She pulled her long dark hair out of the neck hole of the shirt and let it go. There were no mirrors in her eight-year-old world and that was fine with her. Her biggest obstacle today would be getting on her bike before her mother hollered at her to brush her hair. She plopped onto the floor and rattled open her sock drawer. Hmmm…blue, red, blue, she resolved, and plucked the very important sock ball from the top of the pile.
She called them her baseball socks, but really they were her “tough” socks; classic boy’s tube socks with three colored stripes at the top. She had every color and wore them every day, and they made every outfit better…and not as girlie. She stretched and pulled each sock over her skinny calves and up to her knees. She hopped to her feet, feeling like Superman as he exited a phone booth. Perfect. In her tomboy way she swung open her bedroom door, ran down the green carpeted hallway and skidded, surfer-style across the slick, parquet foyer. It was Saturday and she was ready!
Her sneakers were dirty and plain with laces and rubber soles that got her from here to there, which is all that really mattered. They kept the rocks from bruising her feet when she ran and kept the splinters out of her toes when she was building forts in the woods. Her socks, however, mattered. Her knee-high tube socks transformed a little girl into a self-assured spitfire. She was fast. Her socks made her faster. She was strong. Her socks made her stronger. She liked to race and beat the boys, which she mostly did, giving credit to her socks. She rode her bike from morning til dusk, pedaling fast while looking down at her pumping feet and her baseball socks marching up and down, encouraging her to absorb the burn and not to coast. She would zip past her invisible finish line, closing her eyes to let the wind dry her face. Her tomboy way was simple, innocent and true, her tube socks were her eight-year-old outward statement that inwardly gave her confidence and made her feel strong. Pulling her baseball socks over her calf and up to her knee was her battle cry, her call to action. They said “yes you can” when she wondered if she could. Over 40 years later she can still say that those tube socks were the coolest thing she ever wore.
Through middle school and high school she would experience some of those same emotions as she laced up her cleats before a big game. Even now when she pulls on her cowboy boots she toughens up a little and begins to think that, just maybe, she can conquer her day. Her tube socks still stand elite, enveloped with the carefree candidness, and freedom of her eight-year-old youth.
Many times since then she has wished for her “tough” socks. As she has walked through her failures, she has imagined herself pulling up those tube socks, running down the hallway, and sliding fearlessly across the parquet floor. She wants to feel strong. She wants to be brave. She wants her tube socks… She leans back and smiles at the metaphor. The tomboy in her is still there, standing strong and ready for battle; it’s her tube sock faith that has changed. She realizes now that she already is all of those things, not because of her socks, but because of her trust. Her faith socks are all she needs to give her strength; and they are just as cool, always pulled up to her knees, and continue to make every outfit better.
