Everyone has missing socks.  No matter what you do, or how organized you are, chances are you’ve lost a sock in the wash.  Where do they go?  It’s like there is a monster living in the dryer that feeds on socks.  At least, that’s how I’ve imagined it.  So many years of finding sad, lonely socks without their mate will cause a mind to conjure up interesting reasons as to the whereabouts of the rogue socks.

But in my house, it doesn’t stop at socks.

Random items come up missing frequently around here.  Given, with three kids (ages eight, six, and four), this is not the most organized of homes, but our things go missing more often than they should.  My oldest son’s glasses, for example.  He had them one minute, the next, gone.  I tore this house apart looking for them, to no avail.  Two years later, they still have not resurfaced.  In my head, the Sock Monster now has some very expensive spectacles (as he must be able to see better with them…somebody should get some use of them, I suppose), for which he uses to steal more socks.

And shoes.  And important school papers.  And credit cards, house keys, toys, lipsticks, remotes, and just about everything else.

Including my youngest son’s beloved blankies. Oy, the blankies.

I bought his blankies for him before he was born, and from the beginning, the kid was rarely seen without his “kiki”.  They came in a pair; brilliant, as one could be washed while the other was being snuggled.  However, once he was old enough to catch on to the fact that there were two kikis, he insisted on having them both.  Being the youngest of three kids, it was easier to indulge him in that than to argue with him.  Now, four years later, he is still fiercely loyal to his kikis and has a difficult time functioning without them.  You can imagine the commotion that fell upon the house three weeks ago when we realized that the kikis were missing.

Of course, we didn’t realize it until bedtime.  In fact, he had been snuggling with them on the couch just that afternoon, as he had to get three immunizations that day and he was sore and cranky.  But, poof, they were gone.  The poor little guy was so distraught, crying and panicked, which of course made me feel terrible.  We looked everywhere…for three days straight.  The whole weekend, in any free moment, was spent checking every possible hiding spot in this house, but no luck.  They were seemingly gone.  He didn’t sleep well those three nights, which meant that I didn’t sleep well, until finally I took him to a nearby shop to buy a substitute kiki.  We couldn’t find one that was just like the originals, but we purchased the only one they had in the store; it was “soft and fluffy, just like my kikis”.  It wasn’t the same, but it would do.

Days continued to pass, and I thought for sure that since I had spent $18 on a stinking replacement blankie that the original ones would pop up anytime.  Nope.  Then my little guy started telling us, quite excitedly, that Santa would find his kikis when he brought presents on Christmas Eve, because Santa is “magic and can do anything”.

Crap.

I was already all worked up over the kid’s Christmas gifts, because he was asking Santa for only one thing: a “big Flash toy that talks”.  I looked everywhere for that particular super hero, searched the ends of the Internet, and even talked to two different comic book guys…but nothing.  No talking super heroes.  He completely imagined this toy, and was convinced that Santa would bring it because he was a good boy.  Of course, I was so worried that he would think that Santa put him on the Naughty List because he didn’t get this fantastic toy.

As Christmas approached, the kikis were still hidden away somewhere. Fortunately, when Christmas morning finally arrived, all of my kids were absolutely thrilled with their gifts from Santa, and I was relieved.  Neither the imagined Flash toy nor the kikis were mentioned.  I had even stopped looking for the old blankies; I figured that if they were going to surface, they would surface on their own time (selfish Sock Monster!).

The kids’ holiday break marched along, and was spent playing with new toys, romping around in the fresh snow, and enjoying a much needed break from our very busy schedules.  Just this morning, the last weekday of their break, we were getting ready to head to the movies when they were invited to have a sleepover at my parents’ house.  What kid doesn’t want to spend time with their doting grandparents?!?  They were thrilled at the prospect, and bounced off to pack their bags.  Not two minutes later, my sweet little guy appeared in front of me, beaming from ear to ear…and clutching his two kikis to his heart.  “Mommy, they were in the small pocket of my Buzz Lightyear suitcase!  I found them!!”  He then ran off to finish packing, and just like that, the drama of the last three weeks was over.

Sorry, Sock Monster, the kikis do not belong to you after all.  Sock Monster – 43, Kearns Family – 1.  You can keep every last sock you find, but do not mess with the kikis.  That is just not cool.