Flashback PTSD To Old Baby Blue

When Farmer H rushed in from POOLIO because the sudden rain was getting him WET, he said he was going to finish drying off.

"Finish? I thought you just sit on the porch until you're dry."

"I do. But since the rain was cold, I dried off some in the laundry room."

"Wait! What did you use?"

"A towel that was folded up there."

"Was it blue?"

"Yeah. I dried off, and tossed it in the dryer with my clothes that's runnin'."

"NOOO! That's my butt-towel! The towel I put on the kitchen chair as a cushion! I just washed it the other day!"

"I didn't hurt it none."

"But you used it, then threw it in the dryer!"

Let the record show that we don't mind using towels a couple times before washing. We're clean after a shower, and no need to use extra electric and detergent for washing a mostly-clean towel. And it's OUR SEPARATE towels.

But Farmer H was all sweaty from working under Bargain House, and had just gotten in POOLIO with NO CLOTHES. There's no soap in POOLIO. I don't know how well the pool chemicals are at cleaning PEOPLE. So the thought of Farmer H drying his private area with my butt-towel was horrifying. Even though I am fully clothed when I sit upon it, and it really only touches my clothed rumpus.

I can always wash it again, now that I know. Which I wouldn't have, except for the interrogation. Or if Farmer H didn't put it back exactly like it had been, before he tossed it in the dryer. Still, it made me think of my precious sweatshirt, Old Baby Blue, during a previous incident.

RIP, Old Baby Blue.