Sock It To Me!

"I don't want the girl you used to be -
And if you ain't noticed,
The kids are fast asleep. . .
And your one hot mama.
You turn me on.
Let's turn it up
And turn this room into a sauna." - Trace Adkins

This morning, I am the "Sock It To Me!" girl, although I look nothing like Goldie Hawn.

My oldest, Hey Nineteen, needed a wake-up call, so I got up a little early to insure I didn't forget.

"Oh, thanks, Mom, but I found an alarm clock."

Then number one daughter needed her mass of thick, beautiful and stylishly layered hair knotted into a tight bun worthy of Annual Inspection by the Admiral. I helped her, then had time to fix a cup of coffee before she hollered the dreaded, "MOOOOM!"

She was completely dressed from the ankles up, having done the "super tuck" out of order and realizing that she could not bend at the waist.

"Help me with my socks, Mom!" Well...Dad's black socks do not fit her, but we don't know where her black socks even are and she'd already raided MY black socks a few times leaving only three mis-matched knee-highs. They'd have to do.

"I gotta go, Mom!"

"I KNOW!" I was digging through the five y/o's drawers looking for some clothing to lay out - I'll have to find her socks when I get back, I thought, IF I make it back!

Then I heard my husband in our room, "Honey, do you know where my short white socks are?"

"If they were up your. . .uh. . . No, sweetheart, where are the new ones I just bought you?" I have to watch to make sure the mumblings in my brain don't spill out of my mouth, you know.

"I don't like those. Nevermind, I'll find them myself." I ignored his dejected tone, I had to GIT! Ah hah! Two tiny little white socks. . . clean. . . and close enough!

"Mommy. . . " the baby looked up at me sweetly "these socks don't match!"

"Well, you have a pair just like them somewhere in a Barbie Box. Get ready, Big Big Bubby made you scrambled eggs. . . " Hey Nineteen had arrived and made himself useful. . .and if he asks for a pair of socks, I'm gonna sock him!


I got Bun-Head Black-Socks to school. . ."Thanks for your help, Mom." She's such a good girl. At times.

On the way home, I was feeling blue at the stoplight when Trace started singing to me. . . that I was ONE HOT MOMMA! Yeah, I know that. I can bring home the bacon, delegate someone to fry it up in a pan, find you a pair of socks and all that good stuff.

As I opened the front door, I thought to myself, "Man, it's a good thing Mr. Thirteen wears Flip-flops!"

Big Bubby (not to be confused with "Big Big" )was sitting in the chair brushing his little sister's hair. "I'm glad you're back, Mom! Do I have any clean boxers?"

Sock it to me!

Looks like I'll be sweating it out in the laundry room. . . this is why I'm hot!