Tonight I finally got around to laundering the sweater I was wearing when my Mom asked me to load the ink cartridges in her printer. Now, she had been monkeying with them for awhile to no avail. Could not get them into the proper slot. Hence, the smudges of ink all over the cover of the printer. But never fear, her darling daughter (ME, of course) would be by to rescue her and insert those bloody cartridges into their proper spot.
Lucky for Mom, I had taken off my newly finished Einstein Jacket:
and instead got the black smudges on a cotton sweater that some poor soul in Australia had knitted for the fine folks at Macy's. After trying to remove the ink with Mom's bath soap, I relented and decided a little hairspray would do the trick once I got home.
So tonight the spots are long gone, as our former Tigers baseball radio announcer used to say. Out damn spot, as my Mom would say.
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