The beauty of having children is that life is never dull. There is always some sort of interesting surprise waiting for you just around the bend. This morning we were welcomed to the day with the tale of the crayon in the dryer.
Said crayon was black or perhaps navy blue. After a couple of spins in the dryer it is hard to give it a positive identification. Maybe I should call out the CSI guys, I dunno. In the end it doesn’t matter all that much, does it.
Dark colored crayon melts in dryer alongside of dark colored clothes. It left all sorts of Jackson Pollock type marks all over the clothes inside, not to mention the interior of the dryer. Fun stuff. Even more fun to try and climb inside the dryer to clean the marks up so that the next load of laundry is not subjected to the kid’s version of tie-dye.
I don’t want to jinx anything, but thus far it looks like a chunk of the laundry somehow managed to miss the auto-decorating cycle. It is a good thing because the last thing I want to do is to be forced to hit the stores to go clothes shopping.
And now if you will excuse me I am off to search for some sort of solvent.