Socks — For 4

“That’s wrong,” the sock grumbled.

“Never!” cried the second sock. “I am the navigator! I point forward! Put me on the foot that wiggles so I can wiggle the stars!”

Socks have opinions. But feet have the final vote. socks for 4

He zoomed past the kitchen, past the bathroom, and crash-landed on the living room rug. His mom peeked around the corner.

“Did they behave?” she asked.

“Ah,” she said. “I see the problem. These are twin socks. They miss each other. They want to be next to each other, pointing the same way, so they can fly together.”

Leo slid the first sock onto his left foot. The heel cup found its home. The toes spread out like five little astronauts. The rocket ships pointed straight toward his toenails, ready for takeoff. “That’s wrong,” the sock grumbled

Leo looked at his feet. The rocket socks were smiling. He could tell, even though socks don’t have mouths.