Today I was performing the "L" word, resigned to its interminable presence in my life, dreaming somehow that the Downey was the blue sea, and the powdered Tide was the white sand . . . and then I woke up from my soap-filled delusion. First of all, I told myself, you don't even HAVE powdered Tide, it's liquid, and second, watching the spin cycle go around is about exciting as your life is going get on this March day in Happy Valley, Utah. To expect any more will only result in disappointment.
But there was a bit of intrigue--just a flash mind you--when I discovered that some jeans pockets were a bit more bulgy (bulgier?) than usual. My first thought was, "What important piece of information have I missed because it's been wadded up in Nathan's pocket?" My second thought was, "Maybe it's cash!" My kids know that if their money goes through the wash it's mine. I tell them it's my payment for washing their dirty clothes.
I did give back a soggy $10 once, partly because it was $10 and not just loose change, and partly because it was "hard-earned baby sitting money." Through the waterfall of tears running down her face, my daughter told me that the kids she'd babysat for that measley $10 were horrible kids and she would never tend them again for any amount of money. And that she was so glad I'd found the money for the worst night of her life. How could I keep it?
Most of the time it's only loose change. But I've had some $1s at times and one time a $5. I guess laundry isn't entirely thankless.
So I examined the "bulge." It turned out to be a guitar pick that said "Pick Syd for Student Council," (cute) a hard as a rock tootsie roll, a study guide for the Constitution test, and a Media Center Lunch Pass Punch Card which had 10 punches left. To think that these precious things almost went through the wash!