In Which We Are Grateful For, Perhaps, A Lint Roller

Brian has returned from a few more days off, and rather than be bothered by selecting a new tie from his armoire or closet or dresser, he grabs one off the floor, recently worn.  It is the deep blue and creamy white stripe from 25 June.  Certain I would see a few dog hairs clinging to it, I walked to my television set and peered critically at it during a tight shot, my Dollar Store reading glasses held tight to the bridge of my nose.  Nope.  None.  At least he did us that favour.