Jet came by last evening and said, "Who are those socks for, Mom?"
"I don't know yet." I answered as I put a few more stitches in.
"Are they for you?"
"I don't think so."
"Are they for Granny or Poa Poa?"
"Why aren't you making socks for me or... hey, they could be for Sadie!"
"I don't know, Jet. I'm not sure if they're exactly for anyone yet. And they're a bit too big for Sadie (who is three)." I'd been thinking about putting them in a charity auction as they're kind of turning into Fabrege egg type socks, all kinds of soft Mediterranean country-side colors in mosaic-type dots with a deep blue-purple and a brown streak of zigzags through it, almost like the ceramic colors for the border tiling there. They have the three-D aspect of the ridged lace, and they're certainly not knock-about socks...
Jet laughed at that, "They can't be socks for Nobody! You can't make socks that aren't for anyone, Mom."
I had to laugh then, too. He's likely right in a way. And, up to now, pretty much every single sock I've made have been for someone very specific. But, for now, I baffled him by saying, "Well, for now I just don't know who they're for."