Soft, soft, soft.
In my 47 years, my hands (especially my right one) have touched many soft things. Baby Klipspringers, the velvet curtains at the Fox Theatre, the downy soft neck hairs of certain women...all of these have brought me great pleasure. But nothing compares to the ever pleasant softness of dryer lint. I find it one of life's simple pleasures to carefully remove the dryer vent, which in my case is comprised of two lint screens on one tray (Yay! Bonus lint!), and retrieve the fuzzmuffin.
Ah, but while all dryer lint provides a measure of tactile tingle, there is one particular lint that can bring me to my knees. After a couple loads of jeans, there will be awaiting me two blue squares of lint peppered with the odd-colored pieces of fuzz from whatever other t-shirt or polo that may have made the trip with the pants. These are enjoyable, but are hardly worth raving about.
But when it's towel time, all bets are off. How these rectangles of fabric continue to provide me with sheet after sheet of hairy joy, I'll never know. I sit on the edge of the stairs each and everytime I load my towels and washcloths into the dryer. Yes, I know that my actions are serving a very important domestic service, but that's an afterthought. It's the lint. Only the lint.
"BUZZZZZZ!!"
I'm off and running. You see, unlike shirts and such, you can allow towels to remain in the dryer once their toasty rotation stops. They're perfectly happy to just lay there worried not about wrinkling. This allows you to focus all of your attention on the trap. The key to this situation is to act without haste. Doing so provides you with a special treat, warm lint. Do you need any further proof that there's a God?
You hold it in your hand, fighting back the tears of joy. Look at it. It's square. It's clean. It's soft. It's fragrant (if you use dryer sheets). And yes, it's warm. But alas, like most things in this passing world, the joy is fleeting. Within seconds, you begin to feel the warmth fade away. Granted, the softness remains, but your psyche is scarred and for good. Into the trash bin it goes. Thank goodness tonight's bath night.
________
Ah, but while all dryer lint provides a measure of tactile tingle, there is one particular lint that can bring me to my knees. After a couple loads of jeans, there will be awaiting me two blue squares of lint peppered with the odd-colored pieces of fuzz from whatever other t-shirt or polo that may have made the trip with the pants. These are enjoyable, but are hardly worth raving about.
But when it's towel time, all bets are off. How these rectangles of fabric continue to provide me with sheet after sheet of hairy joy, I'll never know. I sit on the edge of the stairs each and everytime I load my towels and washcloths into the dryer. Yes, I know that my actions are serving a very important domestic service, but that's an afterthought. It's the lint. Only the lint.
"BUZZZZZZ!!"
I'm off and running. You see, unlike shirts and such, you can allow towels to remain in the dryer once their toasty rotation stops. They're perfectly happy to just lay there worried not about wrinkling. This allows you to focus all of your attention on the trap. The key to this situation is to act without haste. Doing so provides you with a special treat, warm lint. Do you need any further proof that there's a God?
You hold it in your hand, fighting back the tears of joy. Look at it. It's square. It's clean. It's soft. It's fragrant (if you use dryer sheets). And yes, it's warm. But alas, like most things in this passing world, the joy is fleeting. Within seconds, you begin to feel the warmth fade away. Granted, the softness remains, but your psyche is scarred and for good. Into the trash bin it goes. Thank goodness tonight's bath night.
________