I know this is Thursday, Stephanie's day, but we swapped for reasons that are pretty boring. Check in Monday for her review of "Strangers in the Desert" by Lynn Raye Harris.
Apparently I have been committing a major hostess faux pas for—well, always.
I don't buy Kleenex. I didn't realize what a bad thing this was until I heard my mother-in-law say to someone, "Oh, she never has Kleenex."
Well. Okay. It's not that I would mind buying Kleenex. I just don't think about them. I use a handkerchief. I have all kinds—cotton, linen, new, vintage, fancy, plain, with lace, without. I have cheap printed ones that my grandmother bought at the dime store fifty years ago and two brand new beautiful embroidered ones given to me by Precious this past Christmas.
I have one that I didn't wash for a year because I had cried into it with a grief so profound that I did not think mere soap and water could possibly clean it. But one day I said, "Jean! Get grip! You paid a fortune for that in Ireland. Get the eye makeup out it—if that's even possible at this point." The wonders of Tide and a little hand washing. There it was, ready for the next round of tears. Or nose blowing and sneezing. And why not? That's what a handkerchief is for, no matter where it came from.
I guess The Guy has been using toilet paper all these years. (You will be very relieved to know that I do buy toilet paper.) I haven't heard him say, but I haven't seen him wipe his nose on his sleeve either. He's polite that way. He has handkerchiefs too, but he mostly uses them when he dresses up. He doesn't think much about handkerchiefs, I guess.
Come to think of it, neither did I, until lately.
So for all of you who have come to my house and needed a Kleenex, I apologize from the depths of my soul. I will endeavor to correct this problem. But I will tell you this: You are going to have to go to the bathroom to fetch one. Or the guest room. I am not setting Kleenex boxes all over my kitchen counters and living room.
That's the best I can do for you.
Have you ever discovered that you have been overlooking something for years?