The Miracle of the Socks

Easter Stockings
Every word that follows is true. Nothing has been changed, except I weigh 40 pounds less.

Easter morning was unusual. As I stirred from a deep sleep, I realized my right foot was in the nude.

My sock had removed itself inexplicably during the night. Throughout an entire 40-pounds-less life, I do not recall another nocturnal sock absconder.

I was amazed, frankly. I wiggled my left foot. It nestled warm and snuggy in tubular white cotton.

But that right foot was naked. I moved it out from under the bedcovers to be certain, waving toes six-through-10 high above a cat.

"Yep, naked," I mumbled.

"What?" Donna whispered softly.

"It's odd," I said. "I had one sock fall off in the night."

"Me, too," said Donna, raising her pink show-and-tell toes, nicely arranged on the left foot!

We were a perfect pair.
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