
I once luxuriated on a blanket of fragrant rose petals you scattered around our bedroom. Disillusioned, my hands protected by sterile latex, I now use metal tongs to gather skid-marked tighty-whiteys.

My journal of big words and pretty pictures

I once luxuriated on a blanket of fragrant rose petals you scattered around our bedroom. Disillusioned, my hands protected by sterile latex, I now use metal tongs to gather skid-marked tighty-whiteys.

I’m still laughing. You nailed it.
LikeLike
Love scene to “crime” scene! This is brilliant, Tara!
LikeLike
Oh, yes, Tara! Wait until the stench of the teen years. This speaks to the occasional monotony of monogamy. I despise laundry so I loved this!
LikeLike
Of all my household chores, I dislike doing laundry the most too.
LikeLike
This was great. We never see these things when we have our love tinted specs on!
LikeLike
Laugh-out-loud funny. Loved this piece, Tara and the slow change from rose-colored glasses to latex gloves.
LikeLike
LOL
LikeLike
I’d say the honeymoon is definitely over 😦 Laundry day, so aptly described here, is the reason I taught all of my boys to do their own laundry starting at age ten. I knew that once puberty kicked in, things would only get worse (and I am allergic to latex) 😉 Great take on the prompt!!
LikeLike
A love gone wrong that’s still “in tact” – BRILLIANT!
LikeLike
How far the plunge from candlelight and champagne (even if it’s cheap Asti Spumanti) to the laundry room. I hear ya, Tara.
LikeLike
seems autobiographical….but still poignant…or is it pungent?
LikeLike
Not autobiographical, the MR is exceedingly neat.
LikeLike