Dirty Laundry

"No one in New Jersey with a credit card has clothing as disgusting as ours," Jared told me as he sorted through a stack of worn t-shirts with conservation logos on them... Conserve Wildlife Foundation, Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space, at least three different colors of Central Jersey Invasive Species Strike Team, Northern Woodlands Magazine.

He opened his sock drawer and sighed. Meanwhile, his sneakers bounced around inside the washing machine after a day of botanizing in swamps in Morris County.

We both caught a little of the sillies and began to laugh. Jared held up a pair of his socks. They lacked fabric in the heel and big toe areas. "I mean, I folded the laundry today. I found one of your pairs of underwear. I folded it, but it looked like a rag to me," he continued.

"Hmph," I thought. "That's taking the joke a little too far."

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

A couple days later, I chose a pair of underwear. The waistband was a bit frayed, revealing the grey elastic beneath. "That's not so bad," I thought. "But, not too attractive either. I guess this happens when you've been married for awhile. Maybe I should get something nicer." Still a tiny bit snitty feeling, I thought, "But, they're not terrible."

I put my right leg into my underwear. My toe got stuck and ripped a hole in the crotch. I laughed and tossed them back in the drawer. They'll be ready when I need a rag or have no clean underwear left.