Dixie cup conversion story

I was raised on a farm in Idaho, right?  We didn't have a lot of conveniences and we basically lived off the land.  We grew our own food, raised our own beef and milked the cows right along with the best of them.  We worked from sun up to sun down.  We picked raspberries until our fingers bled. We slept out in the summer and got a bazillion mosquito bites.  We woke to the sound of magpies squawking at the first sign of the new day.  We swam in the murky waters of the Snake River when our dad flood irrigated our 40 acre farm and you would have thought that we had just spent a day at 7 Peaks Water Park.  Our pets lived off of table scraps and never came in the house. We were terribly tough folks.  And we didn't use Dixie cups in the bath room.  We just used our hands (clean or dirty) to scoop the water in the bathroom sink to rinse our mouths after brushing or to get a drink.  (Some of the above statements could be considered a bit exaggerated, but not the part about the Dixie cups.)

A few years ago I visited my fancy California friend Marcy in her home in Palm Desert.  We had a glorious time enjoying a girlfriend weekend.  Marcy was the perfect hostess and I noticed something different in her home that I had never had in my home or in any home I had lived in.  Dixie cups.  She had a tidy little dispenser attached to the wall in the guest bathroom with a stack of those cute little Dixie cups all ready to be dispensed on a moments notice.  One morning I was talking to her in her bathroom while she was brushing her teeth.  To rinse her mouth, she grabbed a little Dixie cup from the dispenser and daintily filled it with water and use it to rinse her mouth. Her hand remained dry and she didn't ruin half of her make up having water drip down her chin. I thought this was amazing and took note of it.  I returned to the guest bathroom where I was staying and brushed my teeth.  To rinse, I did what I've done for over 50 years.  I filled my hand with water and sucked it up into my mouth, swished and spit it out.  My hand was wet and I had water dripping down my face.  Even though there was a cute little Dixie cup dispenser on the wall, I didn't want to be to presumptive and assume that I could use one of them. I figured that only sophisticated California girls used such conveniences. 

Over the years, we've had some adventures with the bathroom water supply.  First off, my husband insists that bathroom water isn't as good as kitchen water.  He rarely if ever drinks water from the bathroom sink.  However, when our small children would request a drink from their beds, he would go into the bathroom and find whatever container he could find to take them a drink.  Sometimes it would be the lid of the toothpaste, other times the lid of the hairspray can.  If only we had had a nice Dixie cup dispenser on the wall.

Now in my advancing years, I've come to the conclusion that I am worthy of a Dixie cup dispenser and I went right ahead and bought myself one.  For $6.32.  100 refill cups cost $2.45.  This is a simple pleasure that I've been denying myself far too long and I deserve it, right?