As a missionary I lived in a couple of areas where we had "house moms" who took care of our cooking and cleaning. One was particularly fond of taking our clothes to the river and washing them on the rocks (really!). I don't know how she did it, but somehow the sleeves of our T-shirts and garment tops became stretched and distorted — and extremely floppy. You could easily tell the elders who had served in that area because they wore that particular badge of honor.
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