Reuben’s Trabel Journal – Entry #7

Location: Our Labender Scented Bed and Breakfast
Date: Monday – Sock Day

Dear Journal,

After nighttime naps and nibbling and the official Sock Day Stretch™, Teddy and I told Peter and the rest of the crew about the Sock Day Tradition.

Peter blinked a few times and said, “You mean you just… don’t do anything?”
“Exactly,” I said, “but in a purposeful way.”

The Cowsins were immediately on board. One was already wearing mismatched socks and declared themselves “Captain of Sock Lounge Operations.”

Mama BunBun listened while knitting somefing quietly and then said, “That actually sounds like the most sensible idea I’ve heard all trip.” Dougie gabe a tiny bow and whispered, “We’re cultural icons.”

So we explained it all:
— No chores
— No maps
— No worrying
— Just snacks, socks, and soft surfaces

Peter looked thoughtful for a while and finally said, “We should’ve been doing this years ago.” He then put on his comfiest scarf (not a sock, but spiritually close) and joined us on the rug.

We told old stories. Shared leftober cheese cubes. Teddy gave a full lecture titled ““Sock Day: A Lifestyle, Not a Luxury”.

I fink Sock Day might be spreading. We may hab just started a tiny rebolution.

We didn’t go anywhere. We didn’t ride. We didn’t brabe eben one single cobblestone. We stayed curled up in our cozy little room, surrounded by leftober rind paper, and cheese dreams.

Teddy napped in the sun patch. Dougie doodled a cartoon ob a flying wheel ob brie. I re-organized Fish’s cheese notes and added new stars to the map. We listened to the quiet. We laughed and sang and told jokes. We recharged.

—Reuben xoxo

P.S. I found a soft cheese between my toes at lunch. I called it Toe-brie. Dougie was not impressed.