The box was full of stuff ready to throw out.
His wife had been sorting bits and pieces, with a view to clearing unwanted stuff out. He found it on the kitchen table and was idly sifting through it, picking up the odd item before dropping it back in. He noticed a piece of blu cloth and tugged it out. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at! It was one of his favourite t-shirts of all time! It was the one he’d worn when they took that long summer holiday, the one that always goes so well with his light blue cargos, the one with the handy pocket. It has to be a mistake. Just as well he found it. He went looking for her.
She was in the laundry. He walked in holding it up. He said, “I just found this.”
“Yes, from the box, I suppose.”
“That’s where I found it,” he said, hugging it to his chest.
She sighed. “And you’ve come in here to talk about it have you?”
“Well, of course. This is just about the best t-shirt I’ve ever owned.”
“Not any more it isn’t.”
“What?”
“Just look at it. It’s so old. It’s got stains under the armpits I’ve never been able to get out. It’s so thin around the neck that it all sags out of shape, and it has five small holes in it, I’ve counted them.”
He held it up to the light. “They’re very small holes,” he said. He shook it and spread it across his chest and asked, “What do you think?”
She pulled a face. “I think it’s a rag.” He went to speak. She carried on, “Honey, you have to face it. Right now, what you’re holding is a piece of rag. It is so thin that you’d have to say that it’s not even a useful piece of rag. There is no way you can wear that.”
He looked crestfallen, but seemed to be resigned.
She gave him a loving smile and said softly, “That’s life for you, sweetheart. Get used to it, my darling.” She stiffened. “Just pop it back in the box, there’s a love.”
He nodded and slunk away.