No one I know is overly mortified when their clothes get smeared with tomato sauce. You plug the chore of doing laundry into your routine somewhere between grocery shopping and paying bills. Clothes get dirty. You wash them. No shame in that. On the contrary, I once gave a quilt to a bachelor who did not think Irish Chains could get wet, and eight years later I was aghast to see how filthy it was. I sent it through the heavy cycle with triple soap.
I didn't usually warn my kids "Now, don't get any clothes dirty this week!" I skipped the formality and said "Bring me your full laundry basket."
My clever mother did buy me a dress when I was seven that was reversible. It was blue with green flowers on one side, and solid blue with a yellow pocket on the other. I remember getting it dirty at a restaurant and she took me in the bathroom to turn it inside out. We came out looking fresh, but I bet she still washed it.
Ten years ago I stood beneath the Eiffel Tower with my five oldest kids, and while we waited in line splurged on French ice cream cones. I chose chocolate, feeling especially decadent, and promptly dripped on my white shirt. This time it was my oldest daughter who pulled a Swash spot removing pen from her bare bones back pack possessions and wiped it clean.
What would it be like to have laundromats for relationships? All of ones that I have seen get soiled by grimy feelings and behaviors. What is our system for regular cleaning? Some couples pray together, which is good hygiene.
There was a scene in West Wing where CJ spilled coffee on her blouse, and had no time to change. Her assistant tried to cover it with a jacket but that was even more awful. At a meeting CJ held a binder to her chest to cover the blotch, with spotty success. It takes a lot of effort to keep mistakes hidden.
John is actually the King of Spot Removal in our spouseship. He tackles stains with an armory of potions he hides under the sink. He knows which ones respond to bleach or alcohol, hot water or cold. .
Gary Chapman wrote a book about the Five Languages of Apology. He suggests that different stains in relationships respond better to different kinds of apologies.
I do know that when John said he was sorry for something he had done eight years ago, the smudge on my heart disappeared, just as if he had used a magical spot removing pen. He did not even need triple soap.
