Stop the presses: While washing up after lunch, I tore my left dish glove. The left one. I am right-hand dominant (I’m ambidextrous for a right-hander, but I’m right-handed) and throughout two years of handwashing dishes in Italy, every single pair of dish gloves I’ve replaced, it’s been because of a rip in the right hand.
I used to hold on to the still-good lefts in case there was ever an exception, but after I had a stockpile of about five left gloves I went ahead and threw them out, because it was Never Going To Happen.
Yet today I was able to pull out one leftover left from the back of the cabinet, saved like a just-in-case bottle of champagne. It is an Easter miracle.
Joseph says: One day too late for Palm Sunday.