Check Your Socks First


               Many years  ago I traveled  as a guest speaker  in churches.
          For the first  couple of years, my  wife traveled with me  and we
          even continued the practice of traveling together after our first
          child  was born.   He  went with us  in other  words.   After the
          second child, she gave up traveling with  me and after the third,
          I  quit traveling  myself.   I  don't  know if  there's a  hidden
          meaning in that or not.  Anyhow,  we made many friends around the
          country  as we  traveled  because we  normally stayed  in peoples
          homes.  Often, when  coming back through an  area, we would  stay
          one or two nights with friends we'd made before.

               One  such  family  lived  in  a  small   town  in  Illinois.
          Traveling back  that one summer,  I called a  friend and said  we
          would  be passing through.  He asked us  to stay with them, if we
          would be in the area long enough, and I said we would.  This  man
          and  his  family  had  become  very  special  to  us  because  he
          personally had  lived with us  once for  about two  months as  he
          hunted for a house to buy in Denver before his family  moved out.
          Anyhow, Sandy and I stayed with them again this time.

               Now, you must keep in mind that  I am kind of a joker and  I
          am always trying to pull funny things on my wife.  After you have
          traveled  a great  deal and  stayed in  many hotels,  motels, and
          peoples private homes, you easily  get board and I always enjoyed
          pulling funny things on my wife.

               One  day, while  staying with  our  friends in  Illinois, my
          friend came home for lunch.  He was a letter carrier for the post
          office and his house was on his own route.  He had it worked  out
          so every day he  got to his own house  to deliver the mail  right
          around  noon.   His  kids were  in  school and  his wife  was off
          shopping this day.   When Dick came home for  lunch, he suggested
          frying  up a bunch  of grill  cheese sandwiches  and Sandy  and I
          agreed.

               As we sat  around the table eating  our lunch, I  decided to
          try and bug my wife just a little.  It was summer  time and I was
          barefoot.   As I  ate, I  moved my foot  over till  I touched  my
          wife's shoe  and then  picked my  foot up  and put  it on  top of
          her's.   I figured she'd yell at  me or something so  I waited to
          hear her complain.   Well, my wife has gotten used to these types
          of things over  the years so  she just ignored me.   I pulled  my
          foot off and thought for awhile what I would try next.  I decided
          to put my foot  on top of her's once more and just leave it their
          till she got mad enough to say  something.  Again, I put my  foot
          on top  of her's  and left  it for  the  longest time.   She  was
          determined  not to  give  in  and said  nothing  the whole  time.
          Pulling  my foot,  back, I  chewed my  sandwich and  thought once
          again how I could get my wife to yell.  then I had  it.  Using my
          bare toes,  I  let them walk up my wife's leg  till I reached the
          top of  her sock.  Curling my toes around  the top of her sock, I
          jerked  it down around her ankle and  quickly pulled my foot back
          just in case she tried stomping my bare toes with those big shoes
          of her's.

               Suddenly, and nearly  choking on my sandwich,  I realized my
          wife wasn't  wearing socks.   About this  time, my  friend jumped
          back from the table  and with his head half way  under the table,
          he  yelled, hay  who  did that  to  me?   To this  day,  we laugh
          ourselves silly thinking about how big of a jerk I was  that day.
          The horrible part  of the story was thinking  about what may have
          happened if  my friend's wife  might have been home  eating lunch
          with all  of us  that day and  seated next  to me  instead of  my
          friend.

          Phil Scovell