Why Would This Knowledge Be Necessary

Mrs. HM suffered another injury of unknown origin on Saturday. I stopped by the short couch on the way to the shower, and leaned over the back, talking to The Pony, who had taken up residence in the recliner while Farmer H was at his Storage Unit Store. When I got to my destination, I was shocked to see BLOOD on the upper right chestal area of my comfy cotton purple pin-striped lair-wear shirt. I went back to the living room.

"Pony! Look at this!"

"Oh. Wow. What did you DO?"

"I don't know! It's on the front. And on the right sleeve. I guess maybe it's this bite thing on my forearm. The scab must have come off and I didn't know it, while I was leaning on my elbows on the couch back."

Of course I changed into a town shirt after my shower. But when I got home, I put that same bloody shirt back on. It had dried by then. I would probably slop some supper on it anyway. No rush to put on a clean one too soon. The next day, before shower, The Pony saw me wearing the shirt.

"Oh. I see the blood has darkened on your shirt."

"Yeah. I doubt it will come out. I should have treated it with something right then. OH NO! I'm afraid my shirt might be ruined."

 

Heh, heh. Let's just say that this shirt, and Old Baby Blue, my tattered sweatshirt which has been retired, after blog-told indignities involving Farmer H, have a lot in common. Though not a Farmer H connection, thank the Gummi Mary! Purple Pin-Stripe has a large hole along the seam under the left arm, and is almost sheer from threadbareness. Even seeing the stripes is hard.

"Here. I'll put a little soap on it to loosen up that stain for washing."

I was standing at the kitchen sink, and pumped some of the soap my sister the ex-ex-mayor's wife had given me for Christmas. I just set it out a couple days ago, when one of the other soaps Sis gave me ran out. This one is Bath and Body Works Kitchen Lemon.

It's a foaming soap. I dampened the stain with a few drops of water, and rubbed some of the foam on it. 

THE STAIN DISAPPEARED!

"WHOA! Look at that! I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't standing here watching it! That blood just disappeared!"

"I KNOW! I can't believe it either! Usually, it gets a little lighter, and I let it set for a while, then wash it, and most of it comes out. I've never seen this come so clean so soon!"

"I was about to ask if you wanted to open a bottle of your Diet Coke to put on it."

"Yeah, that works, too. Especially when I'm out somewhere, and drop food on my shirt. This is AMAZING soap!"

"I guess it's the kind they could recommend to murderers, for getting out their stains. Here! Let me get a picture! I'm going to send it to Bestie! Is that okay?"

"Sure."

Yes. I know. The Pony prances to the beat of a different drummer. It wasn't until later, in my lair, that I got to thinking about this scenario. When I was back upstairs getting supper ready, I hollered to him in the recliner.

"Hey! Pony! WHY would you want to send that picture to Bestie, and tell her how great it is at getting out BLOOD? Is there something you're not telling me? Is she contemplating murder? Is she going to be a defense lawyer? Does she write about murder? Does she read about murder?"

"No reason. No. No. Don't know. Don't know. Maybe."

Again with the different drummer.

Living with The Pony again is like being in an episode of Big Brother. Expect the unexpected.