It was always a bit of a mystery to me why Sam and I are friends as he is a far more interesting and civilized person than I am, but it has become apparent to me recently that he humours me in the hope of hearing the next embarrassing saga from the life of Carolyn.
There is a kid at the church we both used to go to who takes great delight in telling one particular story about me, or at least bringing it up so I have to attempt to explain myself to the people around. “Carolyn eats socks” he shouts and then runs away: let me explain.
A number of years ago I was camping with friends. Someone put a Custard Cream on the barbeque and then someone put a tiny bit of someone’s sock on the Custard Cream. Someone else bet I wouldn’t eat it. I did. But these things happen and we learn from our mistakes, you might think. The problem is that they don't to most people and I didn’t.
Fast forward two years...and I am leading a kids camp. One night the other leaders of this camp, who had heard the aforementioned sock-eating story, presented me with a sock (which they had been baking in the oven all day) and challenged me to eat it…in front of about 50 intrigued/bemused/delighted children.
I ate a few bites of said baked-sock…and threw it up 5 minutes later. I don’t think a scientific name for this particular eating disorder has been assigned yet but I imagine when it is there will only be one person they could possibly name it after.
And that, I think, is why Sam is my friend.
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