I have had a tough week. On Monday, the lady of the home took me from my prominent place and tossed me into the washer. I was tossed, twirled, soaped, rubbed, scrubbed, cleaned and spun. Then the woman took me out of the washer, and took me outdoors. I was excited to be in the backyard, because I rarely get out. But it was a tad bit cloudy out there, and I was quite unsure of this arrangement. After a sudden cloudburst, just as I was partially dry, I became quite drenched again.
I was left outside to dry all night. The next morning, I got poured upon again. My house-wife in charge left me to bake with a generous dose of sunlight. That evening, I was finally dry. The boy took me into the home and placed me back in my comfortable spot. I was most happy to be there, as my spot was clean and so was I.
I served my purpose there for about 15 hours when, much to my chagrin, the independent small girl spilled soy milk on me. And she didn't wipe it up. After a few minutes, the "mom" discovered my predicament and wiped me with a dry towel some, but I was still somewhat moist. After being used for a bit with a damp spot, I got tossed into the washer. Again.
This time however, my housewife-owner brought me out to the front of the house to dry in the sunshine. There were some clouds, but they didn't open up with any precipitation. I became scorched once again. I hope I remain moisture-less this time. I enjoy being in my spot, even though I mostly get stepped on by all types of feet, big and small. Shoes, barefoot or be-socked. Any time of the day or night.
For I am you know, the red kitchen cushiony rug.
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