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THE BITTERS WITH THE SWEET
home in the afternoon, he'd put on a colored shirt; then, in the morning, another white shirt. And he was very particular. Believe it or not, when he taken a shirt off, he would miss it if I didn't launder it that day. I'd think, "I won t do the laundry today, I'll let it go until next week." Then he would go through the drawer, looking for that particular shirt.
I'd say to him, "What you looking for?"
"I'm looking for that pink-striped shirt."
"It must be in the chiffonier," I'd say, but he'd go straight to the bathroom, find it in the clothes basket, "Is it getting too hard for you to do the laundry?" Jelly would say.
"May, I'm trying to make it easy on you. Isn't it easier to wash and iron one shirt just when I take it off than to wait and let them pile up?"
"You don't have a thing in the world to do but keep my laundry clean. There are a thousand laundries in New York that will do my shirts and won't let them lay around. If I take them there Monday, I can get them Tuesday; but I won't put my shirts in the laundry, because I don't like the way they make them so stiff in the colar. Seems to me you're just a glutton for punishment. When I take off a suit of underwear or a pair of socks, all you have to do is run them through a little Lux—no rubbing and scrubbing to do. You're home here all day and all you have to do is iron them and put them up in the right place. . . /*
He was very strict on that, very strict. His suits, if he taken them off, he wanted them to go to the tailor and be dry-cleaned and right back. The idea was that he wanted every suit there and in the right order. He used to say, "Now when I go to my drawers, look at the difference between you and I; I can go to my drawer in the dark and get out any shirt I want, white or colored, any pair of socks, any tie; but you got to tear up everything to find one slip."
That was his way and I couldn't fool him about it or get