Flannel Shirt Wars
The other day I was on my way down to the den when my wife stopped me. She was in the laundry room holding one of my old flannel shirts. Apparently she had just washed and dried it, and was getting ready to put it into the laundry basket to bring upstairs when she had a change of heart. "Do you want this shirt?" she asked. "Its old and the collar is frayed and there's a rip in it." I looked at the offending item for a few seconds, and decided it wasn't worth getting in to an argument about, although it was the only blue flannel plaid I had. She didn't mention all the white paint I had somehow gotten on it, which would have boostered her complaint. I let her toss it in the waste basket and went in to the den. On my way out I glanced at the shirt again and decided to give it a closer exam. I didn't see any rip in it. Granted, the collar was frayed all the way around, and it didn't look nice, but I wasn't planning on wearing it to churc...