Placeholders

I am almost always disheartened to find out that I have the same defects as the people I judge. You would think I would have figured it out by now, but there’s always a little shock at the naked truth; I had judged so-and-so for having dirty laundry, but then it turns out that they were just holding that laundry for me.

As I pass by and take my dirty clothes back, I try to remember to apologize for having asked them to be my placeholder. “I would have been by sooner to pick these up,” I tell them. “but I was fighting ten other battles in the meantime. Thanks for your patience.”

Sometimes among my 10 pounds of laundry I find one of their items, like a red sock.

Handing it back with no comment, we become closer than ever.

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