Mom has a Kleenex fetish. I know I have to have a box within reach everywhere we go so I have one in the car, by her bed, in the bathroom and their living room. It's the first thing she reaches for when she gets up and heaven help us if she doesn't have a pocket to put them in. So you'd think that I'd remember to take them out of her pockets when I do the laundry! Nope. I even posted a note on the washing machine that says "check for Kleenex!" but I still forget. Then when I take out a load to put in the dryer - what a mess. I usually have to shake out the clothes and run the vacuum to clean up the floor as well as the machine. Last night I thought I'd remembered it all but then found 5 or 6 napkins that must have been in Dad's pockets :0). Someday I'll probably long for the surprise of tiny bits of shredded paper spilling all over the floor. Right now it makes me laugh, sigh or groan but the lack of it will someday make me cry. So I'm cherishing this funny quirk and letting it be part of my stretching experience - most days that is!
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