I was cute and not oppressive to others, don't worry. But sometimes I was less showered than other times, in a way that made me just not feel...cheerful.
And I sort of had a vague 70s hippie idea that you shouldn't be vain -- that it was a bourgeois vanity to indulge in new towels, blow dryers, and sundry items necessary for efficient grooming.
You kind of had to be there.
It's just such a relief to know that it has happened to others before me, who did not die or sink into needing what Lisa Simpson in a nightmare called "Mama's pryin' board". (I.e., "Hey, kids. Be quiet. Mama's watchin' her stories." A moment goes by. "Hey, chicken-pop. Get Mama's pryin' board. I'm gonna go to the liberry and rent us some movies.")
And Amen to the idea that new towels can be a useful investment in domestic happiness.
I should talk, right now; I'm recovering from a baaaad cold (I think it was actually an influenza) and a fever, and the house looks like a battalion of French soldiers has been bivoacking in the living room and kitchen, and my beds aren't even made, but still. There is hope!
Cheers,
Breanna
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