Crisis with a Sharpie

I was sorting through some outgrown baby clothes yesterday, deciding what I was ready to give away or loan to another friend with a darling little boy. I was using a black Sharpie to mark a T on the tag of all the items I would like to have returned, just in case the Lord should give us another little boy someday.

I did the bulk of my work while both boys were sleeping, and then I finished while they were awake and playing in Tyler's room with me. I tried to be careful where I put my marker. I really did.

As I was folding and storing the baby clothes, I heard Tucker saying, with glee, "T! T! T!"

I turned, and there it was: a black streak across the ottoman.

No, it's not really a T. But it may have become one, if he had had just one more minute to cross it.

I gasped. I couldn't help it. Tuck instantly knew the error in his ways, although I don't believe he nearly recognized the magnitude. He immediately tried to brush it off with his hand. No, there is no amount of brushing or stain treating that will take Sharpie off furniture upholstery.

It's there forever.

As Robb said, "Well, we'll always know it was Tucker."