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Soft and fluffy

February 24, 2010

Wow,  this is utterly random. But as I sit here scouring my face with probably the stiffest towel of all time, I can’t help but relate this.

When I was little, soft, fluffy towels were a fantasy. You know, the sort that you read about in storybooks.

Instead, my memory of the towels that wiped me down were rough, aggravating affairs.

I used to love the bed and bath sections of departmental stores. Carried away by the aisles of soft and fluffy, I thought buying new / better quality / with cute embroidery towels were the solution, only to have the illusion shattered by the first wash. Even though I know better, I still get such delusions sometimes.

It was only in university living with my roommate – and doing our own laundry – that I even heard of something called fabric softener.

And my sister relates the same story.

Just goes to show how much habits and norms are shaped by what you know from your parents.

For now, soft and fluffy is still a distant fantasy – at least until I get a place of my own – but I’m just glad someone is still doing my laundry.

Told you it was utterly random.

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