Invisible

I am invisible.

There are two sides to me. One is exposed and the other is hidden-often by cloth. Occasionally, someone will pull away the hiding cloth and stare at me. Not sure why. I can't really tell them not to so I just stare back mimic their expressions right back at them until they get bored and leave again.

There is one that likes to spray me with smelly water every few days and then scrub me down with a rough cloth. There is a little one the keeps putting stickers on me and sometimes makes me look pretty with colorful sticks. I like the little one.

I like the soft water that hits me and is a rather calming presence. The white flakes are nice too, but they are cold and the hiding cloth always gets heavier when they are around. Bugs I do not like. They crawl on me and at first it tickles, but then it is merely an annoyance.

Still, for the most part, even with everything I've mentioned, I am invisible. I stand around waiting for the day someone will need me and wondering why they keep me around if they don't.