I realized, while doing laundry, that my favorite towel had not been in the laundry for a few weeks.
Yes I know, on the grand scale of things wrong in this world, this was pretty big.
This is no ordinary towel. Well, it kinda is, but it isn't.
Back in 1997, I was still making bears. Yes, teddy bears. I used to design and create miniature teddy bears to the collectible artist crowd and travel around the country (and world) selling them. Sounds pretty cool eh? Well, it had it's moments. However I burnt out in 2002 and moved on.
Anyway, in 1997, I went to Tampa, Florida to a bear show, and the theme was Noah's ark. When you participated in these shows, they often made you a "collector" too. So one of the perks of that was you got to go to the big fancy sitdown dinners and win prizes just like the collectors. Each meal included a table favor.
One of those nights, our table favor was a beach towel with a Noah bear embroidered on one end. I thought it was so cute and had to rearrange my suitcase to get it home - yes, it was packed that tight.
Over the years it's had it's share of wear and tear.
And poor Noah bear, well, his umbrella is no longer blue, his robe is slowly wearing away and then there's the hole - right next to his HEAD.
Why do I love it? Well, a myriad of reasons. First, practical reasons. It's big and fluffy and I like beach towels so much better than regular towels. Then it was only the second time I'd ever flown in my life. I actually called a woman and asked if she'd fly with me because I was really nervous. But mainly it's because of a really happy conversation I had with someone I care about. Nothing special, nothing in particular - just a happy moment, that got attached to some silly little item and I associate the two together forever.
A few years later, I created all the table favors for the same show. They were teddy bears holding a christmas ornament. I made around 95 of them and was SO GLAD to have that done! That show was set to take place on September 15, 2001. Because of flight restrictions after 9-11 it didn't happen again until November. I was never so glad that I didn't sign up to show there.
So anyway, I started to wonder where it could possibly be. I knew it wasn't in the laundry, as I wash every stitch of clothing, sheets, towels every Monday.
My next thought was maybe it had been thrown in Gene's work car as a rag. *shudder* Like, to clean up an oil spill or something (not THE oil spill, *an* oil spill). Just the thought started to make me a little ill and borderline angry. I determined a trip to the car was in order.
Then, before I could get to the car (I was at the clothesline), I remembered "option B". Or in this case, "Option T".
The teenager with a raw, unbridled hatred for laundry. Oh sure, he'll mow the yard until he loses 6 pounds from sweat - without me asking. He'll randomly work on the chicken coop. He was kind of excited when I bought an electric weed trimmer... but laundry. For some reason he hates it.
Baskets will sit there for weeks on end, and he'll often go to school looking like he stores his shirts in a shoe. I still refuse to do his laundry for him. If you want to wear dirty underwear and stink, then have at it.
You'll get made fun of, but have at it.
So first I dug through the laundry hamper -full of clean, unfolded clothes. Nope, not there... which only left one place.
The spot where the hamper was supposed to be, but wasnt.
Great.. now I get to go into the closet, where stinky teenage boy stuff "lives" and burn my nose looking for my favorite towel.
Underwear, shorts, 23 shirts and looky looky! THERE'S MY TOWEL!
Once again, all is right with my world. Towel is in place, and still all torn up and Tanner is officially grounded from my towel.
forever and ever amen.
PS - Tanner, you have laundry to do :p