I am wearing a white top, today. It's one of my favorite summer tops, although it's nothing all that special. Just a simple, white, tunic-length t-shirt that looks nice with any necklace I decide to wear. I particularly like it because it a v-neck shirt, which makes it seem a little dressier. It's very cool to wear, very summery.
So, I was eating my lunch a little bit ago. I was having a french bread pizza, which is the kind of lunch I have to have on Mondays, either that or I'm searching for the sharp knives by 5:00. It was very pleasant, sitting there at the kitchen table with my little pizza, my Cherry Coke Zero and my library book.
One tiny piece of pepperoni fell off my pizza. Only it didn't fall off so much as it purposely launched itself at my white top, landing right on my left chest region, but then falling, rolling, leaving a little red track of stainy pizza sauce all the way down to the freakin' hem of the shirt.
This one very small piece of pepperoni - so small that one might almost consider calling the manufacturer of these french bread pizzas and telling them that it is simply unconscionable to advertise something as "pepperoni" when, in fact, the pepperoni is so sparse and so small, it looks like it's there by accident - left not one, but five stains on my nice white top. Five!
How do I manage to do things like this? I should get a garbage bag and cut holes for my head and my arms and wear it every time I sit down to eat. Either that or start wearing a shoulder holster with a Spray-n-Wash Stain Stick in it like a sidearm.
So that's how the kids are doing it these days - "Mom, I need to tell you something, but I'm nervous." That's not the kind of conversation you really hope to have on a Wednesday morning before school. "O...
2 days ago