The TOWELING!

Halloween is just around the corner, so I felt like sharing my personal horror story with you. As you might imagine, it involves Hick.

Let the record show that we're trying to coordinate holiday visits with Genius and The Pony. Not Halloween, of course. That's not a big holiday for us. The boys are both getting care packages for that, even though I had contemplated not sending one to now-adult Genius. But then he said he wouldn't mind one, just smaller.

Back to our holiday plans. The Pony requires our assistance in traveling 9 hours by car. Okay. Maybe he doesn't REQUIRE it, like Genius implies, when he says, "What are you going to do, drive him around until he's 40?" No. We don't drive him around. We meet him halfway, and I ride 5 hours with him to keep him awake. As you may recall, it was only TWO YEARS ago that The Pony totaled his car on the way home for Thanksgiving. Last year, we went to spend Thanksgiving with HIM, because Genius had plans to arrive later in the weekend for our at-home feast.

Anyhoo...Genius had also intimated that he wouldn't be coming home for Thanksgiving OR Christmas (as we know it) this year. Now that he's a workin' man, he doesn't have the college month off between semesters. In fact, he has 17 days per year of vacation time, and uses half of that each summer to work in the IT department at Missouri Boys State. Dang those Millennials and their giving back mindset! He apparently has social plans with some other young professionals over Christmas, which precludes the family gathering. So he suggested CasinoPalooza 3 a couple weeks before Christmas, with a caveat that he MIGHT make it home one night over the holidays.

Hick and I were ruminating on these developments, along with Hick interjecting thoughts about his Storage Unit Store.

"We still have you mom's bedroom set over in the BARn. It's been there since I moved Genius to Kansas City. I'm pretty sure he won't want it anymore, now that he has his own furniture."

"Yeah. I don't think it will fit in his room here. You know. For the couple nights a year that he might visit. I told him we'd been planning on getting a bigger bed to put in that bedroom instead of the twin."

"All we need is a headboard. And a mattress. I've got a frame over in the BARn. Even your mom's frame would work. They're adjustable. Heh, heh. Maybe we'll just use one of those air mattress beds! I've got a couple of them, still new in the box, from my storage units. I could put together a wooden frame, and put that on it."

"I am NOT going to make Genius sleep on an air mattress when he comes home! Not even a fancy one, on a wooden frame! Even though the only time he'll probably sleep here is to settle our estate after we're dead."

"I know a guy at one of my stores I go to who has a bunch of headboards. Cheap."

"Yeah. That part won't matter. Oh, and next time I go to Walmart, I'm going to get a couple of new towels. Just to have them while The Pony and maybe Genius are home."

"I don't think you need new towels. Our towels are fine."

THIS IS THE SCARY PART!

Our towels are the same towels I bought when I got my first teaching job. Let that sink in for a moment. Val. Retired. Using towels from her first year of teaching.

Let the record show that the year was 1981. Our towels are 37 YEARS OLD! Lest you think that we blot our glistening post-shower bodies (hope you weren't eating while you're reading this) with threadbare, see-though scraps of vintage cotton...those towels have held up pretty well. They were originally SEARS BEST, a set of 8 thirsty bath towels, in assorted colors, with accompanying washcloths. Rollin'-in-first-year-teacher's-salary dough, Val splurged on the good stuff.

Maybe you remember back when Sears had good stuff. My dad would only buy SEARS KENMORE appliances. Some of which lasted as long as my towels. So don't be all snooty, looking down your collective proboscises at Val and her hillbilly linens.

Anyhoo...my point is the HORROR of Hick thinking it's okay for Genius to sleep on an air mattress in a homemade frame (perhaps getting a splinter in his pampered skin)...and perfectly reasonable to deny me two new Walmart towels, since 37-year-old towels are just fine.

I'm pretty sure your hair is standing on end by now, at the HORROR Val endures on a daily basis. I'm even more sure that none of you will be dropping by for an overnight visit.