Fanciful

I remember when…

A favorite blogger of mine, C Jane, linked to a writing prompt today. Eight minutes and the prompt, “I remember when.” And I thought to myself, “Well. Why the heck not?”

I remember when my mother used to wear a pair of socks that were covered with the silhouettes of animals.

What an odd memory.

But, it is a well-worn one, just like how my sister and I used to watch the VHS of Brandi version of Cinderella over and over, until, now, the tape is worn and will make odd shrieks if you try to watch the show.

Anyway.

My mom’s socks. If I recall correctly, they started out a grey shade of blue in the background, with dark animal silhouettes all across. But, maybe because of one day in contact with bleach in a washing machine (we have all made this mistake at one time or another), the socks ended up that orangeish-tan so familiar to bleached items.

But, the animals remained.

I’ve heard it said that the images we see as children become some of the most formative images of our lives.

I don’t know what the implications are to this.

But, I remember my mom pulling on the socks and then putting on her shoes every day, with her mom-hands and her simple engagement ring/ wedding ring combo. She would sometimes tell the story of when she was a little girl and her dad told her not to go outside barefoot, but, she did anyway, and then she was stung on the foot by a bee.

And so, everyday: shoes. My mother is a firm believer. Shoes and socks, with the laces firmly tied.

My mom also is the one who took us to the zoo. She’s the one who read us picture books about animals. She’s the one who sang us songs about barnyards and animal noises. I can’t remember each of those instances, though. I do remember that pair of socks, however. And that’s a warm enough memory for me to fill in the gaps.

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