Once a week it appears that we've been to a funeral when in reality we are just experiencing my wife's wash. On any given week it'll look the same. The order my be different, the amount may be different, but the color will always be the same. Black!
After twenty-four years you'd think I'd have become used to it by now, but no, it always stops me in my tracks and makes me laugh.
So okay, I borrowed an old song title, "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair," ...but hey, I couldn't resist, it was perfect.
Pray on,
Eddy
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