One of my wool dryer balls hopped out of the dryer and skittered back into the no-man’s-land between the dryer and the washer. Into the dust. Into the dog hair. Where I couldn’t easily reach to rescue it.
It got me wondering, “is it in the nature of sheep to get lost? Is that the essence of sheep, even once they’ve donated to become dryer balls, to determinedly get themselves separated and lost? Wherefore doest thou thinkest that thou is going?”
It reminded me of one of my favorite kid stories. One of our boys was in the high chair at our old house and we were poking Cheerios, chasing them around the tray of the high chair. I’d purposely pop them to bounce a little and say, “hey! Get back here!” It made the little guy giggle and so I kept doing it. Eventually I had to wander off to clean something up and I hear, “hey! Hah-bat-choo! Hey! Hah-bat-choo!” That was as close as he could get to “hey, get back here” and we still use the phrase regularly at our house.
I confess to exclaiming it to my prodigal dryer ball.
Don’t be that dude. Stay with your herd. Or flock. Or whatever you call a collection of dryer balls.
That works in life, too, you know. Find your tribe and bless ‘em! And speaking of tribes, a belated very happy 80th birthday to one of my parents’ besties! Thanks for being part of our tribe for decades. We are better people because of your friendship. Love you!
