TSA ate my socks

If you stayed home for Thanksgiving, be grateful you still have warm feet. I had to travel by air this holiday, and it was a devastating experience for my favorite socks. When my single carry-on wheelie suitcase went through the pre-flight screening at DFW, Superman didn't know his own strength. Two pair of footsies and some tights failed to stay the course due to his x-ray vision. When I tried to don my feets apparel, the yarn of my favorite crew socks separated like the dry sinews of Lewis and Clark's overcooked pot roast.

It's the thought that counts. Maybe some son will think to get me super strong Christmas stocking stuffer socks with a strong sci-fi force field for future airport scrutiny.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

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