Since I first brought you home in 1994 you've been there when I got home. You feel soft and well cared for like my grandmother's hands used to but I know you want to retire. The other day when your waistband gave a little on a short walk to the fridge I realized I couldn't ignore the situation anymore. It's time.
I can't bear to see you sitting on a pile at the goodwill so I'll just put you in a drawer and promise never to make you work again. Rest now. Thank you.