In Hindsight: The story of the towels

I was brushing my teeth the other night when my eyes rested on the two towel racks behind me.

And I sighed.

When I first got married, I was so excited about decorating our place. The first room I decorated: the bathroom. I spend an inordinate amount of time in there, so I wanted it to look good. I spent time selecting photographs that were bathroom appropriate (one of me fixing my hair, the other of Bjorn brushing his teeth), I put up the artwork we created on the back of the first complaint letter we received from an irate neighbor above the toilet, and of course, I bought matching towels (complete with our initials on them!). I spent alot of time planning and making sure everything matched and looked perfect.

And this is what it looks like a year later:

We did gamely try to keep the towels matching for a while, I think we made it to 6 months. But then, we started getting off schedule in our towel changing, we started showing preference for certain towels and from there it was helter-skelter.

After a year and some change, one of the most important lessons I have learned is that you should pick and choose your battles. This is not one of them. Seeing the towels this ways seems to me more homey. It reminds me that we’re more comfortable with each other and can be real.

I still sigh when I look at the towels. But now it’s because they remind of a much greater evil in marriage: laundry.

Jammie Karlman is the entertainment editor for the Chico Enterprise-Record. Contact her at buzz@chicoer.com. Follow her on Twitter @JammieKarlman