Umbilical Fabric Repository

belly button with lint

Belly button lint.

It’s severely annoying: I have to dig it out any time I’ve worn a shirt longer than just a couple hours.

It’s slightly embarrassing: when I take off my shirt in front of others (including my wife), there’s this ball of fabric demanding attention.

It’s surprisingly handy: if you collect enough of it, it can provide an excellent lightweight spark catcher for backpacking campfires.

It’s simply miraculous: no matter how many times I wear a shirt and collect navel shavings from it, I never seem to wear holes in it.

For the most part, I just accept belly button lint as a reality of life. Not quite a necessary evil, but certainly an unavoidable one. There’s nothing I can do to stop it, so I have to accept it, or it would drive me insane.

I’ve had seasons when I produced a lot and seasons when I produced none. I can’t seem to discern a pattern to it. It happens in all seasons, so it has nothing to do with the weather. It happens to loose and snug shirts, so it’s not the fit. I find the lint-wad now as much as I did when my waistline was more substantial, so it’s not the shape. And I’ve not noticed a difference even in the few times I’ve shaved my stomach, so it’s not the body hair.

I’ve long since given up. I just trust it’s coming.

However, I really wish it would stop. I hate the feeling of eyes on me — even if it’s just my kids — when I’m fishing out the latest downy dander from my umbilicus. It’s not hard to feel sheepish with a finger digging into your own beebo.

About Phil (251 Articles)
Philip Osgood is a Christian husband, father, and writer who considers himself a passable video game player, fiction reader, camping and hiking enthusiast, welder, computer guy, and fitness aficionado, though real experts in each field might just die of laughter to hear him claim it. He has been called snarky, cynical, intelligent, eccentric, creative, logical, and Steve for some reason. Phil and his beautiful wife Clara live in Texas with their children in a house with a dog but no white picket fence. He does own a titanium spork from ThinkGeek, though, so he must be alright.