This is the story of a sock. A plain white ordinary one - no stripes, no colour and not even a bit of a frill to excite the viewer. I would say non-gender specific, white sock. 

The fascinating factor about this simple white sock is that it lay on the stairs, abandoned by owner and seen only by myself. Located on the fifth stair from the bottom in plain sight of all the word to see, glistening white on the dark hardwood stair. It almost seemed fluorescent, but did anyone see it? NO. 

As I was making my way up the stairs, I stopped in track, instantly jolted into irritation, but then I thought 'why should I pick it up?', let it just lie there and let's see who would claim ownership... disregarding ownership, would anyone, other than myself, have the presence of mind to pick up the sock, to move the sock? 

As mothers, we must be a super-breed of human for there are things, moods, situations that WE can only SEE. From the mundane to the more complicated, we are astute detectors and predictors of any abnormal activity pertaining to our family, home and contents. 

Let's start with the frivolous things, how come no one can find the laundry basket to actually put clothes into it, but instead like to think that it's fun to leave me, like a treasure hunting map, a trail of strewn clothes, because obviously I, the mother, MUST be the only one who can visually see the basket?? 

Dirty faces, unbrushed teeth, hair that's never met a comb. I sense them all. Yes, the children might look shocked and horrified and the dramatist out of the lot might feign hurt and disappointment at my detection of their hygiene habits or lack off, but I can sense an unwashed face before it leaves the threshold of my domain, my house. Only me.

I can detect the little nuances that can lead to a full on meltdown, tantrum or war of words depending on the age group. The toddler will roll on floor, silent tears making an appearance which left undetected can give rise to full on 'exorcist styled' screaming. Then there's the pre-teen whose classic moves of loud sighs, rolling of the eyes surely does have me rolling the deep if not nipped in the bud before full bloom. Yes it is only me, the mother who sees. 

I can get the whiff of a sneaky child or a group in silent cahoots who might try to cover up a stealthy consumption of forbidden cookies before dinner. Then there is also the chancer who tries to blame the broken glass vase on gravitational forces of the earth rather than his cricket bat and ball. Yes there is no need to elaborate, as the mother I have seen it all.

In a gathering of children, usually in a strange place, I can sense danger before it happens. Like a trained St. Benard, I can see the child about to slip on a fallen drink, the baby about to hit his head on the edge of a table or the monkeying child whose hovering on the latest hover board is doomed to end disastrously. Yes as mothers we jump, dive, scream and shout and with a swoosh of our super hero capes, we avert danger.

Mothers should start their own “lost and found” agencies. We could make millions. For when anything is missing in the house, what do they scream in loud unison? "Ask Mum". Despite careful instructions, a child and especially a husband can never find the bottle of ketchup that sits gleaming on the fridge shelf nor the only orange in a bowl of apples. Nope, nobody but Mum, who has to drop whatever they are doing and find the missing object.

Returning back to our lovable white sock, it did indeed lie there the whole day and even into the morning of the next, until in utter vexation I picked it up and expertly hurled into the wash basket. Frivolous an article this might seem to non-mothers but ladies I think we can all nod in unison, that we have indeed been there and done that. The simple white sock will be back there tomorrow guaranteed.. and I will just pick it up as usual! These are indeed exciting times in Motherhood.