Another sock torn to shreds.
I found it while folding laundry today. Then I found another. That makes 5 this week, plus 2 pairs of pants in the last few weeks.
James is obsessive about strings on his clothes. If there is a tiny piece of string sticking out anywhere, on any piece of clothing, he needs to remove it. Immediately. If I am not ready with scissors to cut it off, he won't stop pulling it until it is completely removed.
It was hard enough to find socks without toe seams he could feel (yes, I was the one doing the victory dance in the boys' department at Target, thankyouverymuch). But my smugness went away after a few washes, when the strings started to appear.
More than a few times have I arrived at school in the morning to tell him it was time to get out of the car, only to see a sock with a newly pulled hole on one foot and a panicked look on his face. "You don't have another sock? WHY don't you have another sock? Now I can't go to school. NO, I CAN'T NOT THINK ABOUT IT! I'M GOING TO THINK ABOUT IT ALL DAY AND WON'T BE ABLE TO DO MY WORK!"
And I sigh, because I know he is telling the truth.
I tell myself that summer is coming - those glorious days of crocs, shorts and short sleeves. Less clothing means fewer strings to pull, right? Not having to wear socks is a reason to throw a party in this house.
And maybe, just maybe, if he doesn't have to remove a string for a few weeks straight, the obsessiveness will fade a bit and he'll outgrow it by Fall.
But until then, I'll be carrying a tiny pair of scissors for emergency string removal.