Knee Socks

Julia somehow got it in her head this week that she wants knee socks.  Her reason for this desire is two-fold: for one, she wants to look like Hermione Granger in her school uniform, and for the other, she wants to look like she's from the "aldin" days.  Thus began the begging, and I ended up tacking on an order of girls' knee socks to an order I was already making online.  However, the knee socks clearly couldn't arrive soon enough.  I think we were ALL tired of hearing, "Mommy, when are my knee socks gonna get here?", but it was Auntie Shannon who calmed things down by lending a pair of her own gray knee socks to Julia.

Julia then planned, ALL WEEK LONG, to wear the knee socks to school on Thursday.  It was a big hush, hush though, at least among her school friends.  Multiple times per day, Julia reminded me, "Okay, so.  Mom.  Remember not to tell ANYONE that I'm wearing knee socks to school on Thursday!"

Well, Thursday is here, and Julia was in an ecstatic reverie this morning.  She felt the need to announce her fashion choice to everyone in the household, beginning last night before bed.

ETHAN: Julia, did you brush your teeth?
JULIA: Daddy, I'm wearing KNEE SOCKS tomorrow!
ETHAN: That's great honey, but did you brush your teeth?

This morning, Julia came downstairs dressed in plaid skirt, tee-shirt, and gray knee socks, beaming at me proudly. 

Madeleine, of course, didn't bother to give Julia the satisfaction she craved.

MADELEINE: (pointing at Julia and squealing with laughter) Julia!  What are you DOING?
JULIA: (indignant) I'm wearing KNEE SOCKS, Madeleine!
MADELEINE: Uh, Mama, I think Julia's socks are TOO BIG!
JULIA: (scornfully) Madeleine, these are KNEE SOCKS.  They're SUPPOSED to go up to your KNEES.

My heaps of praise were clearly not enough to quell the flame of excitement in Julia's heart this morning.  Every few minutes, Julia would sigh lovingly, "Kneeee socks," a look of delight crossing her face.  When I suggested she run up to my full-length bedroom mirror to check herself out, she went sprinting upstairs.

And then never came back. 

ME: (at the base of the stairs) JULIA?  Hey, Jules?  Julia!  Come down!  We have to go to school!

Silence.

I then had the wisdom to go to the OTHER stairwell, at the top of which is the room Julia is currently sharing with Auntie Shannon. 

ME: Julia?
JULIA: (yelling back from behind the closed door) YEAH?
ME: What are you doing?  We have to leave for school! 

I heard a frantic flurry of Julia's words spilling out, and as the door clicked open, I called up, "Are you waking up Auntie Shannon to have her admire your knee socks?" 

"No!" Julia called quickly, rushing out of her room with a guilty expression, while Shannon simultaneously bellowed, "YES!" from the bedroom.

BUSTED.

At any rate, Julia excitedly headed off to school in her knee socks, and when Madeleine and I arrived to pick her up this afternoon, she came sailing gaily out of the school doors with her socks down around her ankles.

ME: What happened?  Your knee socks are down by your ankles!
JULIA: (cheerily) I pushed them down!!

Oh.  I guess the delight was in the initial revelation of her knee socks to all of her friends.  After that, Julia opted for comfort over style.  Regular ankle socks they became.

On another note, I have realized over the past few days that I could probably caption every single walk to and from school to pick up Julia, based upon that day's defining characteristic.  For example, yesterday was definitely "Can we actually make it home before Madeleine poops in her underwear?"  Madeleine was forced to stop and double over about every block or so, trying to squeeze her bum cheeks together and keep from pooping before she got to the potty.  To add to the mayhem, Julia ALSO had to poop, having held it ALL day because of her aversion to pooping at school, and, because we have only one bathroom, a big fight ensued as to who would get to relieve herself first.  I voted for the one who seemed like she might not even MAKE it to the potty.  I'm pretty sure Julia will NEVER forgive me for siding with her sister, though.

Today's caption would have to be: "How many times will Madeleine lose her shoe?"  The answer was 7.  7 times, en route there and back, Madeleine was suddenly wailing and hopping about on one sock-shod foot, while I retraced my steps to pick up the black dress shoe that had YET AGAIN come off her foot.  I suggested she just walk like a normal human being instead of doing her erratic hop-skipping, drunken sailor stagger along the sidewalk, but she was quick to shut me down. 

MADELEINE: Well, Mama.  It's not because I'm SKIPPING.  My shoe just keeps RANDOMLY falling off my foot!

I can't wait to see what tomorrow's school walk theme will be.  Fun times!