"This doesn't fit me any more," my pal Norm said. "Want it?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Fair warning, it needs a good washing."
"No problem! Thanks!"
The shirt immediately hit the laundry table and a few days later came out of the washer and dryer with a load of other dark clothes.
It fit me perfectly! I was an associate scourge on evil! A junior juggernaut against crime! A ...
Hey, what's this near the shoulder? And on the chest?!
Marks! Bleach burns!
I asked Janet about them. Yes, I do laundry (and not very well, I'm told), but I hadn't done this load.
Janet's thought was that while on the laundry table, the shirt must have touched a cloth that had some bleach or cleaner on it.
NOOOOOOOOO!
I can only blame myself for not being more careful. Sigh. Now I can't wear it to church.
Keith, Ya Goof!
1 comment:
Just wear it around the house constantly to make up for not being able to wear it nice places!
NB
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