When You Find a Baby’s Sock in Your Pocket

Of course I thought I saw something bulging from my back pocket this morning.

But when I reached inside and smoothed the inner lining of said pocket, I was convinced the bulge had gone down…enough.

Well, when I got to work and saw the familiar bulge making it look like there was a wad of trash just hanging out in my pants, I tried to smooth out my pocket again when, there! I discovered it wasn’t a case of a crumpled pocket at all, but a cute little sock. A pink one.

I forget who had this sock on last, but I’m sure it made its way into my pocket the other day out of sheer necessity…cough cough—desperation. The thought brings on a tender smile.

As I hold this sock in my hand, I give myself permission to be sentimental and to marvel at the size of it. How can feet this small have made such a huge imprint in the world already?

Our twin girls have made their way into our hearts—my husband’s, their two year old sister’s, and mine. And all their family and friends who have met them. And the family and friends they have yet to meet.

It just goes to show me that as humans we tend to think it’s our actions that define our worth, when actually it’s our existence alone.

Now how’s that for making a baby’s sock super deep for no reason, other than: we need a little deep in our lives every once in a while.

Until next time, I’ll be checking my pockets before work from here on out.