I found the wet towel on my pillow

Dear Delyara, It had probably been dropped there by one of the children while moving between showers, bedrooms, and the general chaos of the upstairs evening. Not malicious. Not even especially unusual. Just one more ordinary act of thoughtlessness landing exactly where I wanted comfort. My actual pillow. Damp. I picked it up and felt that hot, helpless kind of anger that comes from being the final receiver of too many careless moments. It wasn’t about fabric. It was about the feeling that even the places meant to restore me end up catching everyone else’s unfinishedness first. I changed the pillowcase. I did not recover my mood as quickly.