A stack of washclothes

It is what it looks like....a simple stack of colored washclothes. But what's the purpose of the stack? To me, it is another sign of the times. A rite of passage. A symbol of what they used to need from me.

This stack of washclothes sits in a drawer. I used to take from its pile 3 times a day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sticky little hands and faces used to command the use of them or else stickiness would have been found other places in the house. Yes, I used to wash the little people with a washcloth at the end of every meal since they were too little to do it on their own.

And now? The faces stay a whole lot cleaner...usually....and the hands, well, they may still get a bit sticky, but the child they belong to can manage to get to the bathroom before touching every surface along the way. 10 years of mismatched washclothes holding space in my towel drawer have nearly come to an end. Now that is sad. And yet, not, at the same time.