Friday, May 2, 2008

...the good towels.

As I was folding laundry this morning I came across some horribly stained towels. These were to be my "good towels". They are white and I wrongly believed that bleach would keep them sparkling. Even bleach can not rescue these from whatever has wronged them. So, I folded them up and donated them to my husband's grody rag pile.

But it reminded me of my aunt. She always had the good towels that we were not to touch. Neither were we to touch the good soap, enter through the front door, or walk on carpet with our shoes. And boy did we like going to her house. And meaning no disrespect here, she still died. Her immaculate house could not save her from the fate that we all have.

I will admit that I could do better in the housekeeping department, but I'm hoping that people like coming to my house. I try to keep it all in perspective. What good are good towels that can't be used, if there is no one there to not use them anyway? Towels last a year if you are lucky. They either fall apart or you want new towels because you're tired of the same old ones. I'd rather have good friends than good towels.

1 comment:

Andrea C. Parker said...

I'm right there with you! Remember people come to see you - not your house or your towels... :)

Click this and I will send you flair:)

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