Secundogeniture used to wear nothing but handknit socks. I couldn't knit fast enough to keep up with the wear and tear a young boy can cause a pair of socks. I knit him this pair and finished them on July 19, 2010.
Apparently, the color wasn't his favorite. Or maybe it was the fit. I don't know. I doubt he'll ever confess. But it's the one pair of socks he never wore. Ever.
Fast forward three years and Secundogeniture cleaned out everything from his room. He purged. Trashed. Donated. Emptied. A lot of things from his childhood left the room. I let him. It's his room. I think that learning to purge is a good lesson. Thankfully, he had the good sense to put some Scouting memorabilia and handknit socks in the Goodwill pre-launch pad rather than the trash.
Last week I noticed these sentimental items in the give away box and had a pang of auld lang syne. There were about a dozen pairs of handknit socks (and strangely enough, two hand knit socks without their matched pair.) I salvaged all the handknit socks. All of them had been worn, loved and perhaps even a little bit crusty in the way that only a boy's socks can be. This pair, however, had never, ever been worn. Not even once. I snagged it for myself.
So on this weekend's campout, I wore these forgotten socks. They got their maiden voyage nearly four years after completion. But they will be loved and cherished. Better late than never!
But I just might have to save some of those other socks, just for old time's sake. He may want them one day.