"Mama," my son called. "Can you help me put on my sock?"
I was in the middle of teaching a violin lesson, and I most certainly didn't want to stop to put on one of his socks. "Bubba, you are almost nine years old. I think you can put on your own sock!"
"But Mama, I really can't!" he insisted.
My kind-hearted violin student went over to help my boy while I wrote in some fingerings on the music. "Um, Mrs. Ellis," the student said. "I can't get the sock on either."
I put down my pencil and went to check out the situation. "Do you mean to tell me a seventeen-year-old and a nine-year-old can't put a sock on?"
They nodded. I stooped down to look at Bubba's sock. He had only managed to get half of his foot in it. I grabbed that thing and immediately noticed that Bubba was covered in sweat. He couldn't pull the sock up because he was too sweaty.
"All right, Bubba," I said. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to take the sock off. Then We're going to scrunch it down so you can get your toes in at the tip. Then we'll roll it over your sweaty little foot. Got it?"
I performed the operation successfully.
"How did you do that, Mama?" he asked when I was done.
"I'm a mom. And moms are experts and putting socks on sweaty little feet!"