Why, you might ask, was there such cause for celebration yesterday?
Such joy, such whooping of whoops and clapping of hands?
A bottle of the sparkly stuff brought forth from the fridge
glasses clinked, bunting flown, smug satisfaction at a job WELL DONE
a new family member. . .noooooooooo
a winning ticket from Mr Lottery. . .NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
moving house/changing car/Nobel prize. . .even louder NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
an exam passed with flying colours...not a hope in hell
The reason my dear friends,
the twinkle of glee to brighten the grey
is that I braved the monsoon
ignored the thunderstorm
waded through pavements awash with summer rain
until I reached the chosen location
and with much brolly-shaking I gingerly stepped through the door
found the right department
Now, you probably all have girly-gorgeous kitchens
in which to flaunt your colour co-ordinated Cath Kidston linens
with unfettered abandon, but my teatowels have been with me
longer than most of my friends
and over the years (and years and years and years) of use and abuse
they've gone from thick to thin, then to thinner
and then. . .dare I say. . .to threadbare.
They have no fabric left in them worth boiling
they have no pattern
and dare I say it. . .no use
I have dusters (ah dusters- but that's another story!) that look better.
So three of the oldest and longest-wiping are
due for eviction from the dresser drawer.
No glittering ceremony or long service medals,
just an honourable retirement tied to the end of Mark's ladder
where it rests on the back of the truck en route to decorating jobs.
Flying the flag for old teatowels everywhere!
p.s does anyone else have a thing about teatowls, or is it just me?
p.p.s I do know a certain someone who names their clothes pegs. . .