I bought these stocking a few years ago. I think I was pregnant with Logan. I remember being at World Market and falling so in love with these. They are cute but not overly cute, they are knit (and anything knit automatically has a home in my soul) and they are festive yet not laden with santa claus and jingle bells, and best of all they are not too big and they fill up very quickly with Christmas morning doodads. So I bought five of them even though there were only four people in our family, you know, just in case we would maybe possibly someday need another.
So we have five stockings. Not six like we need. Because, although I can give myself credit for planning ahead and buying an extra, it was, in reality, not good enough and I should have spent my weight in yarn and bought another. But we were poor and penny pinching and I didn't. And really, I would have never imagined that we would ever ever ever be a family of six. So now there are six hooks on the mantle and five stockings. Last year I bought a red and white, fuzzy, very small, drug store stocking for the baby but I have not been able to bring myself to put it up this year because it reminds me of the stocking that belonged to my sister's and my childhood dog, Prince, a long-haired chihuahua. There is nothing innately wrong with Dylan sharing a dog-stocking, but it feels a little bit skewed in my core, nevermind the difference in cuteness of my festive knit World Market stockings and the last minute schluff stocking from Walgreens.
So, there you have it. Six hooks, five stockings. And five more days to figure out how I am going to fill the last hook.