Socks For - 4

“They want the wrong feet,” Leo said.

The socks went very still.

He zoomed past the kitchen, past the bathroom, and crash-landed on the living room rug. His mom peeked around the corner. socks for 4

“Socks,” Leo said, picking them up gently. “You are both rocket ships. Left foot and right foot are launch pads. If you go on the wrong pads, you’ll crash into each other. But if you go on the right pads—left sock on left foot, right sock on right foot—you can fly to the moon together.”

Leo stood up. He wiggled his left toes. He stomped his right heel. Then he ran down the hallway, his sock-feet sliding on the wood floor, and he shouted, “BLAST OFF!” “They want the wrong feet,” Leo said

Leo slid the first sock onto his left foot. The heel cup found its home. The toes spread out like five little astronauts. The rocket ships pointed straight toward his toenails, ready for takeoff.

“Okay,” Leo whispered back. He turned the sock around and shoved his right toes into the heel. It was a lumpy, angry fit. The toe seam bunched under his arch. The rocket ships were now pointing sideways, exploding toward his ankle. His mom peeked around the corner

On Tuesday morning, the sun was a cheerful yellow square on the carpet. Leo sat on the bottom step of the staircase, his feet dangling like two ripe pears. In his hands, he held a pair of rocket ship socks. The rockets were red and pointed toward the toes, ready to blast off.