I shouldn’t be trusted with small children or animals. But I think I can be trusted with sock puppets. This sock puppet is extra special because it’s a grub sock puppet. Who wouldn’t want a grub sock puppet? In fact, I’m wondering how I lived 28 years without a grub sock puppet.
Here’s the story behind my new grub sock puppet friend:
While I was traveling the contiguous United States last week, I asked my handy-dandy boyfriend, John, to get my mail and water Julius (my orange tree). During a mid-week phone call, John said he’d been cleaning his room. I asked if he’d gotten rid of his extensive collection of socks without mates. The conversation went something like this:
John: “You want my socks without mates?”
Me: “No. I don’t want your socks. I wanted to know if you got rid of your socks.”
John: “If you want my socks, you can have them. I’ll take them to your house.”
Me: “No! I don’t want your socks! The only way I’ll consider taking your socks is if you make them into sock puppets.” [I was totally kidding. I should have known better.]
John: “They can be worm sock puppets.”
Me: “Oh, no. They need to be decorated puppets –they can’t just be worm puppets without decorations.”
John: “I’ll make you a grub sock puppet.”
An email arrived shortly after that statement with the following picture:
And…upon my return to Iowa, I was greeted by my very own grub sock puppet. I have to admit, the little fella bears a striking resemblance to the above photo. He even has little grub feet made from twist ties and elbow macaroni:
I’m not sure how the grub feels about the fact that his feet are elbow macaroni. This may cause some body part confusion in his little grub life.
I spotted a seafood restaurant near Savannah called Marlon Monroe’s Restaurant. I found this hysterically funny. So much so that I named my grub friend Marlon Monroe. He’s very Hollywood-esque. For a grub.