“Yo babe! What’s this? It was in your old dresser”
“Oh that. It’s from the night some jerk drove through an oily, muddy puddle and sprayed me outside my prom.”
“You – may have mentioned this.”
“I had mud and road grit in my hair, down my cleavage. The dress was ruined. I saved it to recall my hatred and anger.
“But – years passed: college, first jobs, a war, an unplanned child and a marriage – all happened. That dress transformed from an icon of hatred into one of blessing when you, that same jerk, transformed into my husband.”