Oh, us!

--- Avert your eyes if you can't handle blood ---

I am usually about the last person who would want to show anyone, or talk about, anything that came out of the body. I am very prudish about it. Very. But this was just too great.

This is how it goes around here:

I commission a friend to customize handkerchiefs for Tom for Christmas (Tom uses handkerchiefs everyday, he is like the cutest old man.)

And she goes above and beyond what I had dreamed of, telling me: Yes, she can do an image of Knut, Tom's favorite baby polar bear!

We were really poor but I was really excited about this gift.

I spend I don't know how long looking all over town for vintage "mankerchiefs".

Tom loves them.

Tom takes them to work.

Time passes.

I find one buried under rocks and mud outside our apartment hopelessly ripped and stained.

How'd that get there? Oh well.

More time passes.

Then the other day Tom comes home with a whole days worth of bloody stories.

And this:

This is after I attacked it with spot cleaner - these stains are pretty much here to stay.

So, Tom is like the cutest old man mixed with the cutest little boy you know.

And I give him custom, vintage handkerchiefs and send him off to work. What does that make me?

This is par for the course around these parts.