If my late father could only read this (Or… maybe he can? Hi Dad! I miss you! Look! I have a blog!) then he would tell me that he told me so: Never go in a workshop in your socks!
I stepped on a staple. It was horrible. I can’t even tell you about it, it was so bad. But the lesson is, as my father always told me: don’t go in the workshop without shoes!
Here is another dad/sock connection for me. It has nothing to do with this lesson. He used to get so mad when we went outside in our socks. He’d yell “Take off your socks or put on your shoes!” Then one day, as an adult, I went out to get the mail in my socks when he was visiting. I said “Oh no, you’re catching me outside in socks-without-shoes!” and he said “I don’t care, I’m not paying for them!” It had never, once, occurred to me to find out what his specific objection was!
Don’t you think it was that it makes them incredibly dirty? I have ruined some nice socks after stepping on sap on our deck!