Let’s Face It
It’s Monday, I’m blogging, and guess what I’m blogging about!
Yes I’m going to tell you about my weekend, but only because I’m not angry and spitting profanity at every turn (anymore).
This post could also be titled: Death of a Black Crayon. In the Laundry. Specifically, the dryer. With my work clothes happly tumbling inside, getting completely effed up by the death of the black crayon. I had black crayon guts all OVER my favorite tan pants.
My pants? They died, too. I tried to revive them with WD-40 and a few runs through the washer. But in the end, there was only death for the pants. Just a casual bystander sucked in and taken with the black crayon on its way out of this world, where it melted ever so conveniently down the inside of the lint trap. So in a way - the black crayon sort of lives on! Oh happy day for the crayon.
The 7-year-old child who left the crayon in his pocket? Well, he lived. Lucky him. Because it was touch-and-go for a little while there. But, with a heap of chores and half a dozen lectures and yes - I admit it, a few minutes of screaming upon discovery of the remnants of my clothes, we seemed to have things settled.
I’m pretty sure his clothes won’t be washed with mine any more… I’m almost positive I’ll be teaching him to do his own laundry very soon. It goes without saying that all pockets will be turned inside out during the sorting process from now on.
Isn’t that a nice little ending? It would be, wouldn’t it! So, should I tell you now about the hole he dug with a nail file in the bottom of the bathtub while he was supposed to be showering last night?
No, let’s just end with the upside of the dead crayon. I think that’s enough for a Monday morning.
