So, I just signed on for NaBloPoMo again, and I’m trying to figure out if or how to shake it up a bit this year. I do know that I’m going to be crying on November 4th. And if those tears aren’t of the happy flavor, well, I just might throw in my stinkin’ towel and post stink-eye photos for the remainder of the month.
Speaking of stinkin’ towels (sadly, my transitions lack imagination), I’m currently suffering from a case of the stinking towels. I’m not sure if this stems back to our Feces in the Basement (!) problem or the fact that I sometimes let things sit in the washer too long, but our towels smell like mildew. I dry my face with one, and then I spend the night smelling my soured fetid face. And I dry the kids’ hair with one, and then I send them to the car for the night so I don’t have to breathe in their rancid tresses. And when your friend sends you some incredible soap and then the smell of your supposedly clean towel completely chews up the good scent and spits foul yuck all over you, well, something has to give because it’s starting to affect my mood.
As I type this letter to you, I am using (for the first time ever!) fabric softener laced with Febreze to try to kill the stink on the towels. Think happy thoughts. Also, Dear Jeff: Your underpants (for the first time ever!) are going to be surprisingly soft (and lavender scented!) tomorrow. Let me know if you need me to knit suspenders to hold them up.
So, anyway, yeah. NaBloPoMo. Join me. (I don’t say it enough, but I love reading your words.) Let me know if you’re signing up, and I’ll be your stinky St. Louis friend. (As Wurocher once said, “Everybody needs a stinky St. Louis friend.”)