WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS AND THE ABSOLUTELY WORTHLESS PAPER TOWELS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Willy Dunne Wooters visited me last weekend. After he had been here a couple of hours, he asked me where the paper towels were. I told him they were on the counter in the kitchen.

It's not terribly difficult to find stuff on my counters. That's because so few things are sitting out. See that red coffee cup near the paper towels? That's only sitting out because Willy Dunne Wooters had coffee. My mug goes in the dishwasher immediately after I'm finished with my cocoa.

Next, Willy Dunne Wooters requested glass cleaner. I told him he could find a spray bottle of Windex on the shelf next to the washing machine.

See the Windex?

A few minutes later, Willy Dunne Wooters trundled past me with a paper towel and a spray bottle and entered the hall bathroom. Oh, how nice, I thought. Willy Dunne Wooters is going to clean the bathroom mirror.

But that evening whilst we dined on fish and broccoli and some other yummy food I prepared with my own two little hands, Willy Dunne Wooters suddenly asked me a question I thought rather strange.

That white roll of stuff out there on the kitchen counter – you call those paper towels? Willy Dunne Wooters inquired.

I nodded politely, keeping my mouth close because I was chowing down on some broccoli.

Those paper towels are worthless, Willy Dunne Wooters said.

Those paper towels are absolutely worthless, Willy Dunne Wooters continued.

Those are the most worthless paper towels I've ever seen, Willy Dunne Wooters lamented.

Those worthless paper towels don't absorb anything, Willy Dunne Wooters cried in a stirring summation of the problem.

I smiled politely, mouth closed because I had shoveled in partaken of more broccoli. I knew the paper towels were fine. They're the same brand I usually buy.

I set out the paper towels so I could take this photo.
Normally, the paper towel package in on a shelf in a closet.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Willy Dunne Wooters continued to exclaim about the absolutely worthless paper towels. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.

Willy Dunne Wooters returned on Wednesday evening to take me out to dinner. Before we left my house, he again departed for the bathroom with a paper towel and a spray bottle. Soon afterwards, we were were enjoying a pleasant repast at The Crazy Egg, my neighborhood restaurant. Willy Dunne Wooters suddenly said, You know those paper towels? Those worthless paper towels? Well, I found out what was wrong with them. I was using them to clean my glasses, but I had the laundry stain remover instead of the Windex. 

Willy Dunne Wooters smiled. Then Willy Dunne Wooters laughed. Then Willy Dunne Wooters and
I laughed so much that we could hardly eat our yummy Crazy Egg dinner.

Hey. It's me, Willy Dunne Wooters.
I can see through my glasses now.
And don't bother to lust after me, ladies.
I belong to Miss Junebug.

Thank you, Willy Dunne Wooters, for telling the world you belong to me. 

Infinities of love and paper towels,

Janie Junebug