After examining the affected spot, the priest will put the article in quarantine for seven days. (Leviticus 13:50)This verse doesn’t really have anything to do with this article, but it seemed to fit.
The past few weeks I have been dropping stuff on my shirt. And I hate it. That means I always walk around looking like an idiot, some kind of mental reject.
Top it off with the fact that I am growing a beard right now and I look bad. Give me a pair of shorts and flip flops and I just look pathetic. A homeless man, schlepping along in his stained shirt and unshaven jowls.
(Older people have jowls. Younger people have jaws. In case you are interested.)
Friday we went to Columbia to the mall. We stopped and had lunch at a convenience store that sells good cheddar jalapeno sausages. We sat under a tree and ate our lunch. And sure as the world, a large glop of mayonnaise fell on my red t shirt.
So here was a big stain. When we got to the mall, the first place I went was JCPenney’s. They have a tall and big men’s shop and had pocket t shirts like the one I was wearing for about $5 on sale. I got one that was raspberry, a manly color. I put it on and we were set.
But the thing is, Ella went to wash clothes. And every shirt of mine had something on it. I have never been a sloppy person, but lately, things find their way onto my shirts and it makes it hard on both me (to wear stained clothing) and Ella (to make stained clothing unstained).
And I will not wear a shirt if it is stained. Will not. I have enough problems with self-image as it is without having to wear stained shirts, shirts with remnants of past culinary indiscretions.
That is the good thing about Hawaiian shirts. They will hide a lot.
I was talking to the church music director this morning, Kathy, and she suggested maybe I could analyze why I drop stuff on my shirts on my blog.
So here goes. I eat something, it falls off my fork or out of my sandwich and lands on my shirt.
Analysis over. I know why. I just do not know why now out of my whole life.
But so it goes. I have taken to wearing a bib (napkin tucked into my shirt, not one of those I Love Mommy ones), but I always feel like some kind of weirdo.
But I feel less like a weirdo than I do when I start out the day with a spot.
The other day, I was sitting in the front yard and a bird flew over me and pooped on my shirt. Go figure. Not even always my fault.
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You are welcome to say anything you want as long as it is nice. If I don't like it, or it is ugly, I will take it off, place it into the garbage disposal, grind it up, and allow it to be flushed into the Gulf of Mexico where it will be eaten by a fish and then excreted where it will lie on the bottom of the ocean until it is covered up by other comments.