I bought a pair of new black pants last week. They're good. I like them, except lint and fuzz is attracted to them. They're just some kind of cotton twill, but stuff sticks to them as bad as it would to velvet.
My mom and I were discussing this today and she laughed, "You used to have a lint roller."
Yes I did.
It's been a few years ago... when Tim was a bit younger. He saw me rollering my winter coat and was quite impressed. He wanted to know if he could take it and roller a few things? Why not, eh? How much trouble can a guy get into with a lint roller? I told him to bring it back when he was done, and he went skipping off. I forgot all about it.
A couple hours later, there's Maria, with the lint roller. "Mom. I don't know what's going on, but I found THIS in the toilet upstairs."
MY LINT ROLLER!
And it was pulled out, like a piece hanging there, and there were dog tooth marks all over it.
I didn't know it was even possible to destroy a lint roller, short of running it over with the car, maybe. But he'd managed to.
So that's the dumb story of my lint roller. Might get a new one...not gonna share it. love, Val
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