Having both a game of basketball and a game of footy on this morning, I thought I would quickly slip up to the local shopping strip for a loaf of sourdough, two takeaway lattes and a hot chocolate.
Twenty minutes later I returned home and was met with the grim statement “We have a problem” from the man of the house. As well as this, a sullen eight year old sat half dressed in his footy gear on the couch. My first thought was oh gosh, who is ill, or worse, who has died.
It was neither.
The red footy socks needed for the game in one hour were missing, vanished, just gone. No longer in existence. Apparently you can’t play without the right socks, hence the air of despair and concern that had descended upon the household on this, a lovely Sunday morning. I left to do the basketball run with my coffee and my daughter and left the men of the house to sort out their problem.
Which they did. The merchandise shop at our local club was open, the red socks were bought and the men of the house were able to proceed on to their Away game in East Malvern.
Our under nine team has lost today, but they all had red socks on.
All is good.