I like your socks

Yesterday, as I'm hangin' out with Mom and my grandma, Bobo, I had my legs stretched out before me in front of my Bobo's bed. We were listening to my Mom tell exciting stories of her trip to Kabul.

Bobo, "I like your socks."

Me, "Huh? What?"

Bobo, "I like your socks."

Me (trying to listen to my mom's story), "Oh, yeah, thanks Bobo. Umm, Mommy? Can you repeat what you just said? Bobo was talking and I didn't hear the last part of what you said about the fish bazaar."

(My mom was in the vanity room off to the side of my Bobo's bed so I was straining to hear. Oh, and CNN was blaring on TV since my grandma can't hear too well these days. Being 93 years old and all.)

Bobo, "Where did you get your socks?"

Me, "Huh? What? Bobo, please, I'm trying to hear what Mommy's saying...can we talk about the socks in a minute? Ok Mommy, go on..."

(Mom continues storytelling.)

Bobo, "Do you like your socks?"

Me, irritated, "What?! Oh, yeah, I do like them. I got them in a 6 pack with different colors and patterns. They were on sale at Costco."

"Oh."

(Mom's storytelling continues uninterrupted for a few minutes. Fresh water fish apparently tastes very different from salt water fish. Tastes better actually.)

Bobo, "Purple is one of my favorite colors you know."

"Huh? What?"

"I said purple is one of my favorite colors."

"Oh, yeah, me too. We do favor many of the same colors. I like the pattern on these purple socks. Kind of unique, no?"

A few seconds of silence.

Bobo, "I really like your socks."

Me, "Bobo, do you want me to get you a pair of these socks? I can get you a whole pack of 'em at Costco you know."

"Oh, no, no, no. Not at all. You work so hard and I don't want you driving all the way to Costco for just socks. Save your money my sweet child."

Me, "Are you sure? It really wouldn't be a big deal. Just let me know if you change your mind, ok?"

Mom and I start talking about my old grade school in Kabul and how my kindergarten classroom is now being used as an outpatient clinic for pregnant women. We're discussing how the traffic lights rarely work and everyone drives like maniacs when all of sudden,

"I really like your socks."

"Jeezaloo! Bobo, would you like to have my socks?"

"What? Oh heavens, no! What would you wear home my child?"

"Seriously, you can have them if you want them."

"Well, hmmmm, maybe I'll just try them on to see if they fit." She sticks her feet out from under her blanket. I take off my purple ankle socks and slip them on her dry, cracked, much traveled, beautiful feet. Perfect fit.

Bobo, "Well, if you're sure...."

Me, "Then there you go. They're yours. Wear them in health Bobo Jaan."

Another few seconds of silence.

Bobo, "I really like my socks. They're purple. See?"

"I know, Bobo, I know."

I squeezed and massaged Bobo's feet for a while.

As I drove back to Ed's, with bare feet, a mental snapshot was my driving companion; Bobo's purple socked feet sticking out of her blanket as she slept.