Here's another non-fabric story. You may have to be Southern to understand it. In my parents' house there was a short hallway to the bedrooms, with a little extra space at the end of the hall, past the last doorway. In this space was a short dresser where we stored various things. I always assumed it was a piece of furniture given to us by a relative because we always referred to it by that person's name. When I was around eight years old, I asked my mom, "Who's Chester?" She said, "You mean on Gunsmoke?" (There's an age reference for you.) I said, "No, one who gave us Chester's drawers at the end of the hall." Mom laughed and very carefully said, "It's a . . . chest . . of . . drawers."
I have a friend I told this story to and he said the same thing happened to him, but he wasn't going to tell me how old he was when it happened to him.
Tate
Last edited by tate_elliott; 11-10-2015 at 04:28 PM.