The Mysterious Self-Replicating Fuzz
I moved into my own place a few months after I graduated. Yeah, I moved back in with my mom for a while, but now I have my own place again. You know what that means? It means I have to do my own housework. Dishes, dusting, shopping--okay, my mom and I still go shopping together. But the chore that holds the biggest mystery for me is the laundry.
It's not the process itself that's so mysterious. You got your whites, you got your light colors, bright colors, dark colors, jeans, and towels. That's basically it. When you're single, it's not even that complicated, because you can always figure out how to combine tiny loads and save on your water and electric bills. "Now let's see...this is a lavender shirt, these are yellow pajamas...but, since they're like two years old, I can wash them with my whites. Yeah!" So, clothes are easy. It's the towels that I have to stop and think about. Why?
Because no matter how many times I wash and dry those towels and rags, they're as fuzzy as they were the day I bought them.
You have to keep in mind, I only have eight towels and eight rags. That's a week's worth, plus an extra set to make it an even number. Because I have so few towels, I wash them once a week. So, figure I've had them about a year...that's approximately 52 trips through the laundry room. Now, you would expect them to be a little ragged by now, a little threadbare, a little less absorbent than they once were. But, no. I open the dryer, lint flies out of the lint screen--which is always full to overflowing after towels have been there--and yet the towels are perfect, nothing but fluff.
Here's my theory. This particular towel manufacturer has devised self-replicating fuzz. If you recall the self-replicating mines from Star Trek: DS9, it's the same principle. When one little strand of fuzz gets eaten by the lint screen, another one grows in to replace it. That's why my towels are still fuzzy!
It's not the process itself that's so mysterious. You got your whites, you got your light colors, bright colors, dark colors, jeans, and towels. That's basically it. When you're single, it's not even that complicated, because you can always figure out how to combine tiny loads and save on your water and electric bills. "Now let's see...this is a lavender shirt, these are yellow pajamas...but, since they're like two years old, I can wash them with my whites. Yeah!" So, clothes are easy. It's the towels that I have to stop and think about. Why?Because no matter how many times I wash and dry those towels and rags, they're as fuzzy as they were the day I bought them.You have to keep in mind, I only have eight towels and eight rags. That's a week's worth, plus an extra set to make it an even number. Because I have so few towels, I wash them once a week. So, figure I've had them about a year...that's approximately 52 trips through the laundry room. Now, you would expect them to be a little ragged by now, a little threadbare, a little less absorbent than they once were. But, no. I open the dryer, lint flies out of the lint screen--which is always full to overflowing after towels have been there--and yet the towels are perfect, nothing but fluff.Here's my theory. This particular towel manufacturer has devised self-replicating fuzz. If you recall the self-replicating mines from Star Trek: DS9, it's the same principle. When one little strand of fuzz gets eaten by the lint screen, another one grows in to replace it. That's why my towels are still fuzzy!