Time To Do Laundry

Oh, I hate doing that, dripping breakfast all over my pajama top.

My pajama top, so called, is actually one of those gray exercise shirts, thick fabric, like long johns but gray. The thickness pulls in and absorbs all liquid. Absorbene Senior.

I'm busy eating -- slop slop slop -- looking at the web news -- and -- dollop -- goes my egg, a drizzling, side egg, crusty, sticky, gooey mess right down my top. To scoop it off with the fork is going to be half the battle. The rest of the battle will be the residue left behind that couldn't be extracted with a rock and a running stream.

So now I look down and I'm Stainman, super hero known for sloppy seconds. That's one way to remember breakfast. I'm always bemoaning the fact that the little pieces of trivial history aren't recorded and are quickly forgotten. Well, this is indelible.

That means it has to get done today sometime. Because I only have this one PJ top that fits well. And I can't be shivering in my bed tonight with a T shirt. Double drat.