…a pernicious and emotionally damaging condition. This condition is recurring, it is chronic, and for years I and millions of other parents have suffered from it in silence.
That’s right, folks. I’m talking about Wet Sock.
No, don’t make jokes. “Wet Sock” isn’t the name of a scene in the new Judd Apatow movie. It’s a very real, very powerful condition. It occurs whenever a seven, five, or two-year-old attempts to procure a drink from the kitchen sink. It occurs every time one of them attempts to use ice. Chronic Retrieval of Ice Deficit (or “CROIDs” as it sometimes known) is another medical condition from which I suffer, and this often results in Wet Sock. After struggling for forty minutes or longer trying to pick up a single, elusive ice cube from our kitchen floor without success, I often give up. But I do so with the knowledge that Wet Sock will strike again soon. It will happen to my wife. My children. It will happen to me.
It is time for the silent suffering to end. We must take measures now to put an end to this blight on parenthood, this plague on humanity. Ten minutes ago my five-year-daughter changed our icemaker setting to “Crushed.” I knew then what might happen. Sure enough, a flood of minuscule granules of ice began tumbling over the edge of her already full cup, showering the floor with ice and making both CROIDs and Wet Sock an inevitability.
I’m writing this plea having just changed socks. No man should have to endure this. The most any male should have to change socks is twice per week. Three times maximum, but that’s only if I’ve spent a day wading through manure and dead animal carcasses, or worse, after an evening of being dragged through the mall by my wife.
The time to act is now, folks.
And if you haven’t yet checked out the FREE first installment of my new serial horror novel, you can do so at the links below.