Stains. Especially on brand new clothes. Especially after pulling said clothes out of the dryer with the sinking realization that the stain I treated so carefully in the wash is now set in the fabric forever.
Stains really, really bother me. When my daughter was a baby, I lived in an apartment where the laundry room was in another courtyard, across a parking lot. I usually skipped the trip and washed my baby's clothes by hand in my tub. I got that Baby Oxyclean powder(amazing stuff!!) and soaked her onesies in a bowl on my kitchen counter, then scrubbed them with detergent in the tub, wringing them out for what seemed like hours before draping them over the drying rack by the back door. If I saw that a spit up stain (or worse) had not come all the way out, I repeated the whole process over again, adding even more Oxyclean and soaking the garment for even longer.
Those days are over, thank God.
Now I have a washer and dryer at my disposal, right in my kitchen! I can literally do laundry while taking a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. Not that I've ever done it.
I find that the convenience of having my own washer and dryer has really dampened the energy and motivation I once had for treating stains. That, and the acceptance I've had to muster as I watch my kids paint every surface of the house, our furniture, and their clothes with mango juice, yogurt, BBQ sauce, ketchup, salad dressing...you get the idea.
Oddly, stains from bodily excretions come out way easier than BBQ sauce. Well thank goodness for that.
Now that my kids are older and more active, I have dirt and grass stains to deal with along with food stains. I quickly saw the futility of trying to keep new kids' clothes pristine for any length of time. So, stained they come in and stained they go back out.
BUT...not only do they stain their clothes, they also have the audacity to give me a hug during dinnertime and get some greasy, oily substance on a shirt I happen to really love. I know, serves me right for wearing anything of any value to a dinner table where kids are present.
My immediate reaction when I pull a stained shirt of mine out of the dryer is to throw it in a bag destined for the thrift store donation center. I can't look sloppy, after all. By some twisted logic in my head, there are people out there who wouldn't mind looking sloppy and buying my stained shirt for a couple dollars.
Why am I so repelled by stains? If my husband has a stain on his shirt, I get totally grossed out. He doesn't mind wearing the same shirt in the evenings at home for a week or two straight. He knows the shirt is dirty, and he knows that attempting to keep it clean is a total waste of time for him. He knows I am the only person who will see it. For him, the shirt signifies play time, a relaxing evening at home after a day in Corporate Land, perpetual snacking, and freedom to be who he wants and spend time on things that matter.
For me, his shirt signifies mess. Unkempt, slovenly mess.
Why?! Stains don't hurt. They have stories. They are like scars, except the getting of them likely caused less pain.
I heard a sermon once about living "disposable" lives. Some of us are used to trashing that which is broken and replacing it with something new. Like a toaster or a pair of shoes. How many of us take the time to mend what is broken and continue allowing that object (relationship, self image, etc.) to keep its proper place in the world and function as it was meant to function? I feel like seeing stains on my clothing wouldn't repel me so much if I were the type of person who was comfortable with imperfection and conflict.
Instead, I can't focus on anything else once I have seen a stain. I can't rest until it's either cleaned or taken out of my house. Do I do the same thing with people?
I certainly see my own "stains" all too clearly. And I try to conceal them, or I live in the angst of wanting to trade in one "suit" for a new one. If I see a stain in someone else, that mark (not without its own story, mind you) can grow in my mind's eye and come to characterize that person. It can be hard to see around the stain and take in the whole person.
Well, I am daring myself to keep my stained clothing...and wear it out. Some might say this is disrespecting myself. I'm not planning to go out in total filth; I just want to free myself from the false perfection I hide behind when it comes to my clothing. I don't want to be so careful about keeping mess off of me, because mess is where life happens.
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