I am definitely turning into my mother.
Now, I’m not saying that this is a bad thing…’cause my mom was the best. Seriously. But this? This is not good, people.
I can remember Mom almost always had some errant stain on her clothes….or smudged mascara on her cheek. When you’d point it out to her, she’d say something about being in a hurry…and you couldn’t help but smile. It was so obvious that it didn’t matter to her...
I’d secretly sworn that I would never walk around like that.
At first, I thought I’d splattered some water. I had not.
Then, I thought it was butter from the popcorn I was chomping on. (Popcorn dripping with butter?) It wasn’t.
Upon closer inspection, it looks to possibly be… ink?
Although, upon even closer inspection:
…I do believe there’s a pattern to this “stain”.
I think it’s entirely possible that it’s not a stain at all…but perhaps a hidden message from an alternate universe: “O oo O oo”. Okay, so maybe that’s a stretch.
I’ve taken the liberty of working on it a bit:
It could conceivably be a snowman who dropped his martini. Or…
…it could be a girl who dropped her martini, if you really squint. (HEY. It’s not easy to draw in Paint.)
I’m definitely getting a spillage-vibe out of this thing. (Get it? I spilled something...and it looks like a spill?? Never mind.)
I'm guessing the stain is old…the top however, is not. Luckily, it’s casual wear…but still. I wonder how long I’ve been walking around like this…
When he saw it, Connor (13) wanted me to change immediately. I’ve decided to sit with it for a while.
After all, I am my mother’s daughter. ♥