I was lying in bed, my back to FP, breathing in the scent of the freshly changed sheets. He wrapped his arms around me, forming a cocoon of welcome warmth that only sharing body heat on a freezing cold night in a draughty, old apartment in Versailles when the heating hasn't been on all day can create.
"You know when I changed the bedsheets earlier?" FP said into the darkness.
"Mmm?" I rolled over sleepily to face him.
"Well guess how many socks I found amongst the bedsheets..."
I smiled. Everytime we change the bedding we find a ridiculous amount of discarded socks in there. It's a particularly annoying habit I've had since I was young.
You see, in my opinion, one of the world's most under-rated, never talked about but should be, facts is that it feels so, so, so damn good to take your socks off in bed. I love to wait until my feet have warmed up, maybe even to allow them to become slightly clammy, and then to take my socks off and feel the cool bedsheets with my newly naked feet. Everything feels so much better. De-socking my feet in bed hightens my senses and makes me feel as though my feet have taken little miniature E's. Feet Ecstasy. The hardcore drug for feet. The sheets are smoother, the cotton softer, the temperature fresher, the senses sharper. It's like taking off your sunglasses and looking at the world in neon brights. Your socks are the buffers between your feet and the world and to escape from them feels amazing like how I would imagine a prisoner feels after being set free from jail when he's been accused of doing something he didn't do and then given a royal pardon.
The fact that I allow my discarded socks to accumulate beneath the sheets rather than kick them out of the bed is, quite simply, due to laziness.
"Go on," FP nudged me. "Guess how many socks I found."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Last time I found three pairs..."
"13." FP replied.
"I found 13 socks in our bed. Five pairs and three without partners."
"That's impressive! I don't think I've ever reached that amount before. That's a lot of de-socking!"
"Yeah," my boyfriend sighed. "Just out of curiosity, has anyone ever told you how strange you are?"
"No." I lied as I peeled off my socks and smiled. "No one ever has."
Monday, December 14, 2009