Some people do spring cleaning. I'm messy enough to justify spring and fall cleaning. In that chore, I try to get rid of clothes that haven't been worn in years or have material that you can see through. My eyes fell on one of Dwight's work shirts. It's a Dallas Cowboy shirt. The collar is frayed. The stains won't come out no matter how much bleach I use. No large holes-just enough to allow the shirt to breathe.
I can hear him tell me that there is nothing wrong with this shirt. Shirts don't need to breathe. I know it's soft-fabric softener is the only thing holding it together. I hate this shirt, and there's only one reason I keep it around. A DECADE ago someone threw my red and white polka dotted night gown away and I still miss it. It was quite possibly the ugliest piece of clothing that I've ever owned but I wasn't ready to say good bye. So the shirt will stay until Dwight can say good bye to it. If you see him in it-I apologize-he has much better shirts.Much better work shirts, but they're not as soft, as stained, or breathe the way that one does. There's just no explaining why we love the things we do.
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