I don't know why

SB begins by telling me, "I don't know why," and then he pulls out some socks from the laundry, "but I really like putting socks on your feet.  I think it's because you have such tiny, little socks and I can't believe that they fit on your tiny, little feet."  And then he puts the socks on me even though it's warm and muggy outside and I really don't need to be wearing socks.  I would say that I don't know why I love him so much but that's not true.  I love him not only despite the fact that he's such a weirdo, but because of it.

Right now he is squeezing each of my sock-clad toes in a rather unconscious gesture as he reads the news with my foot on his lap.