Marital Sock Fetish, Exposed*

So, this happened:

Me: Here, these socks don’t match.

Ed, The Husband: Okay, give ’em to me.

Me: Wait. What are you doing?

Ed: …Rolling my socks.

Me: But they don’t match.

Ed (looks at mismatched socks, looks at Me): So?

Me: So, you can’t wear mismatched socks!

Ed (looks at mismatched socks, looks at Me): Why not?

Me: Because you can’t!

Ed: But I do all the time. Lots of my socks don’t match.

Me: But doesn’t that drive you crazy?!

Ed (pauses): No. They’re in my boots.

Me: How can that not drive you crazy? Don’t you feel that they’re mismatched?

Ed: Um. No.

Me (triumphantly): But you know it!

Ed: For maybe 15 minutes. But then I forget about it.

Me: How can you forget about it?

Ed (shrugs): They’re in my boots.

Me: But there are mismatched socks in your boots!

Ed (tilts head): I’m not looking at them.

Me: There is something wrong with you.

Ed (grins): There’s something wrong with your mom.

Me: There’s something wrong with your face.

Ed: That’s not very nice.

Me: And you wear mismatched socks!

We have a very mature relationship.

*Okay, so not really. I was just trying to come up with a funny post title and have totally hoodwinked you into thinking I was being kinky. Mea culpa.