This week we almost had a white Christmas in the Slacker Mom household.

My daughter has sensitive skin and getting her to put her school socks on in the morning is a battle. Apparently, school socks, no matter what material they are made from, itch.

“Mummy you need to have a word with my principal,” she told me. “It’s not right that little children have to wear itchy socks. And the uniform ... it’s ugly!”

I told her: “Just wait until you have to wear a school tie. Then the fun really begins.”

We deal with the itchy foot problem with baby powder. We’ve tried lotion — according to my daughter it doesn’t work.

Most mornings I rub a small amount on her feet myself, rather than letting her have her way with the bottle. I don’t really understand why powder works, but it gets her socks on her feet. Tuesday I was busy running around getting ready for her Christmas play that morning.

“Just put the powder on yourself,” I said.

When I came back, she had one sock on and was looking worriedly at the other on the bed. My bedspread was looking decidedly powdery.

“What happened? Why aren’t your socks on?”

She held up her sock. It dangled heavily. The entire foot of the sock was filled with powder. You could have knocked someone out with the weight of it.

“It comes out really fast,” she said.

I picked up the bottle of powder; it was nearly empty, when it had been almost full five minutes ago.

Sigh.

“Go outside and empty the sock and then bang it a bit to get the powder out,” I said. “Your socks are going to cause an asthma attack for some kid in the Christmas concert.”

I had an image of her walking across the stage as a Christmas penguin, with clouds of powder puffing up around her. That would have been atmospheric anyway, if only the theme wasn’t a “green” Christmas.

I soon heard a dull whacking. She came back inside with great smudges of white on her face.

“The house is white now,” she said brightly. “I’ve banged out my socks.” She put them on. “Now my feet are itchy again!”