Nearly choking on a mouthful of lemonade, I sputtered, “Are you accusing me?!”
“Not you,” he said, “I'm talking about your curly-headed boy.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my Standard Poodle Jyah cocking an inquisitive ear. “You think Jyah stained your towels?” I said indignantly. “No way! Jyah is very respectful of other people's property.”
Knowing that silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute, Glenn let the matter drop, but I could tell he was not convinced. I decided to keep an eye on Jyah. Sure enough, later that day, I saw him leaving a few sprinkles of yellow water on one of the towels. His thinking, no doubt, was that Glenn had put out these “marking posts” expressively for that purpose.
The sometimes regretful thing about my quest for truth is that I often find it. But, I probably won't tell Glenn that I did.
THE STAINED TOWELS
By: Charlene Dunlap
Recently, my husband Glenn was washing our motorcoach using numerous small, white towels to dry the outside surfaces. When towels became too wet to function properly, he hung them to dry over the edge of a nearby picnic table, its benches, and other vertical surfaces in the area. White towels checkered the landscape. I sat at the table sipping lemonade, entertaining him with the latest intrigue in the mystery I was reading.
"Speaking of mysteries," he said, eyeing me suspiciously, "I've been noticing yellow stains on some of my towels. Do you know anything about that?"
