sock-less roman

Quite often, after Roman's naptime, his feet are sock-less.  At some point during his nap, he takes his socks off -- we don't always take the time to find the missing socks because we're in a hurry or some other reason.  A few weeks ago, this happened again where Roman was sock-less, so I went to grab another pair of socks out of his drawer because we were heading out in a rush. I had just done laundry and there were only two pair of socks in his drawer - and none in the dirty laundry basket in his closet. I asked him if he knew where any more of his socks were... I was very puzzled.  Smiling so big his eyes were squinted shut, he pointed at the nightstand beside his bed.  *Beside Roman's bed is a nightstand that he has "set up" ... the drawer is pulled out toward his bed and that's where a stuffed cow sleeps; there are two pillows that balance on top of the sleeping cow; there are six books that are standing up "fanned out" so that the tallest book is in the center and the shortest book is on the outside of the "fan"; a Lightning McQueen shoebox is where a stuffed lamb sleeps, but the lid stays on that box because the lamb doesn't like to talk to the other animals. Clearly, Roman likes to have things in their place - I think this is a first-child thing?  Maybe not all to this extreme, but I think that's where he gets this funny tendency.*  That being said, I don't remember the last time that I looked in the end table drawer. Roman stuck his hand in the drawer and pulled out a neatly-wadded-up pair of socks -- I was shocked but said "thank you.  Any more in there?"  He proceeded to pull out seven wads of socks.  Each wad was actually one sock stuffed inside the other one, and then the outside sock wrapped around them to form a nice ball.  I was amazed at the neatness of the process but then grossed out as I started to unwrap each sock ball.  Thankfully his little feet don't sweat like the feet of a big boy or a daddy... and also thankful that he was only hiding socks and not undies, too.  :-}