A Hole in My Lip
One day I went to pick up nearly three year old son and daughter from the baby sitter. The babysitter said son had spilled juice all over his shirt. She asked him what had happened? Son said, " I have a hole in my lip." I have this pile of dried up, wrinkled, crackly, paint- splotched baby wipes that I've been accumulating for awhile. Often I have cut them up and used them in collage work. I decided I might use them more often if they weren't bunched up and wrinkled, so I ironed them last night while watching a movie on Netflix. How crazy is that? I had to chuckle. It took me back to my younger years when one of my Saturday morning chores was to iron all my father's handkerchiefs. How many handkerchiefs can one man use or need? I guess men didn't use Kleenex. I don't remember my mother using one but do remember the little balls of Kleenex tucked under a sweater sleeve. I seem to remember spending several hours ironing to get my allowance money. Anyway, I had to laugh at myself for doing this because I am not an "ironer" but they do look much better and they may find their way to some kind of substrate.