Stinky Inky

I was over visiting with Trent's parents, and my dear mother-in-law wanted to write something down.  She grabbed a red pen, but quickly realized that it was leaking and threw it out.  A few minutes later, little Georgie came over to me with a wild look on his face.  He held his hands out to me, and they were bleeding badly!  I jumped up and rushed him to the sink so we could figure out what the damage was.  Turns out that he had retrieved the leaking red pen from the garbage, and got red ink all over his hands.  Grateful it wasn't any worse, I cleaned him up as best I could.  It wasn't until later that I saw the rest of the red ink.

It was all.  Over.  My. White.  Jeans.  I know, I know.  Mothers of many children (or at least of young children) should not wear white anything.  Anywhere.

I went home quickly and tried to remedy the situation.  I tried the hairspray trick, and it lightened the red (turned it bright pink, actually).  I tried two other solutions, washing well between.  There is definitely less ink on my white jeans now, but it is still there enough that I can't really wear them.

To someone else, they might just be pants.  But I only have two pair of jeans (and one is a worn, thrift-store find), and a couple of scruffy pair of sweatpants.  This loss constitutes a major portion of my wardrobe..  And I liked those jeans.  They fit.  Sigh.

I do like being a mom, even at times like this.  Really.