While on our recent camping trip my three-year-old grandson, Tyler, asked me to help him with his socks. He had taken them off and now had one stuck on his left hand and the other dangling uselessly from his right.
With the foolish pride of a man fifty-four years older, wiser and more experienced I took the dangling sock from his fingers and started to place it on his foot. He protested sharply. It was clearly not what he wanted.
This picture was taken a few minutes later when the situation had been rectified to his satisfaction and he was able to rest.
After I snapped the picture I looked at him, hands tucked snugly in his socks where they belonged. I looked at him and I saw my son, and then I saw myself.
And I just sat there and watched us all for awhile.
Love this picture and this story. There is a certain logic in the way Tyler wanted to wear his socks.
It’s been said (not sure by who) that “brevity is the soul of … wit.” If that’s the truth (and I think it is) then your posted photo of this youngster nails the definition.
Great image, Dave. And, man … I’m sure we can all relate. : – )
Morg.
Great image, great story, great writing, great seeing you this morning.