Why don’t you ask me?

I love it when you ask me

Half asleep, I wake up this morning to a knock on my door. It’s my neighbor dropping by to tell me they’re off to the laundromat soon, asking if I have anything I want to send with them. “Hm… Oh!” I bashfully confess that I have some blood-stained white sheets. I ask if that’s too gross. “I mean, I’d try to get the stain out, but they were only $20, and…