Insidious lint

I'm heavily medicated here so bear with me. My mind is moving v e r y s l o w l y and everything strikes me as funny. You'd think I was on something illegal, but in fact I'm taking nothing more than Buckley's Complete Extra-Strength Non-Drowsy Cough, Cold & Flu caplets. The adult dosage is "1 or 2 caplets" and I figured that I was big enough to require two, so that's what I took. Wheeeee!

Okay, so where was I? Right. Lint. But first, to dog fur.

I am attempting to be a green person. Not green as in the mucus that has been streaming out of my head of late, but green as in environmentally friendly. I fail in many ways, but I'm trying very hard. What does that have to do with anything? I can't remember. Oh wait, yes I do. So. I was doing laundry the other day and I decided to wash towels. Not wanting to waste water, I figured I would put all the used towels in the same wash. Tea towels, dishcloths, bath towels, dog towels, you know, ALL the towels. That's what I did. The only towels that didn't go in the wash were the brand-new super-soft yummy fuzzy chocolate-brown ones that I received as a bridal shower gift. I don't believe in washing brand-new towels, no matter what people in the store may have done to them. Anyway, I washed, I dried, I folded and I re-hung. The end? Not the end.

After Scott's shower that evening, I heard him spitting and cursing in the bathroom. I didn't have to ask; it all came perfectly clear: there is a very good reason to separate dog towels from other towels. Poor Scott had dried himself off with his usual bath towel and ended up covered in dog fur from head to toe. He then tried to wash his hands and face and dried them with the hand towel, which only made the situation worse. I didn't want to incriminate myself so I burst out laughing, thereby incriminating myself.

"What did you do?" Scott demanded. I admitted my mistake and quickly fetched one of the brand-new super-soft yummy fuzzy chocolate-brown bath towels. Scott scrubbed himself with it and emerged from the bathroom seething, covered in dog hair and brand-new super-soft yummy fuzzy chocolate-brown balls of lint.

I'm sure one day he'll laugh about it as much as I did.

Getting the lead out

Last year I had our tap water tested and we discovered that it contained more than twice the allowable limit of lead. That explained a lot about those members of the household who had been consuming tap water for the past few years. After an 11-month wait, I finally received a phone call informing me that the city was ready to send out some workers to replace the lead-filled water pipes leading to my house. Those workers arrived last Thursday and spent several hours cutting, digging and napping. Yes, I said napping.

Working hard or hardly working?

I was at home that day, so I was able to glance outside periodically to watch the progress of the workers. The nap took the longest amount of time, by far. I never did see any pipes. It wouldn't surprise me if the workers simply dug and filled two holes to make it appear as though they had replaced the pipes.

Am I growing cynical in my old age?