The summer before fourth grade, I went to church camp. One afternoon when I was getting ready for kickball or softball or some other sport I didn’t really want to play, the counselor in a bunk near mine said, “Oh, I love that you are wearing pink socks! My teenage daughter says no one is wearing colored socks anymore and she won’t let me wear anything but white. She says I’ll embarrass her too much. But good for you for still wearing colored socks if you want to!”
That afternoon, instead of playing kickball or softball or whatever it was, I couldn’t take my eyes off everyone’s socks. White, white, white, and white. This old lady was right. Pink socks were out. I was the ONLY ONE wearing them. My suit case held yellow, green, orange, and another pair of pink socks. Only one pair was white. By the end of the week, that white pair wasn’t so white anymore because they were the only ones I wore.
Day 17 of your stories: one time you weren’t cool.
I can remember many, many times I wasn’t cool. But the day I realized I was the only one wearing pink socks was the first time I knew I wasn’t cool. Tell of a time you weren’t cool. What happened? How did you feel? Who was there?