Dirty Socks by Bruce Lansky

When I went on a camping trip my father yelled, “PU! Your socks smell worse than rotten eggs and worse than doggy poo.” “You’d better take them off,” he said, “and wash them in the lake.” It wasn’t long before I knew he’d made a big mistake. The water changed from clear to mud. Then fumes began to rise. And soon a cloud of air pollution covered up the skies. When bullfrogs started croaking and ducks began to quack, some campers started chanting, “We want our clean lake back!” I’ve got a couple of dirty socks. I’m in an awful bind. I guess I’ll have to bury them. I hope the worms don’t mind. Google.com