Here's what happened. I was rooting around in my closet for a pair of shoes while packing my gym bag for tomorrow--as per usual around 7:00pm after the kids are out of the bath and before I put Scout down in her crib--when I discovered that the "Damp Rid" I had purchased to help get the "damp" out of my closet had spilled. You're supposed to put it on a flat surface, so I had it resting on one of my shoe boxes. Does that count? Apparently not. At first I didn't think much of it until I put my hand in a somewhat syrupy feeling puddle of something (and this wouldn't be the worst thing I touched in the ensuing 60 seconds) and realized maybe I should wipe it up. I went in to the kitchen, grabbed a wad of paper towels and returned to the small, dark closet to clean up the mess. Of course I couldn't see what I was doing, and as I was moving the sleeves of my jackets that hang down to the floor, I put my hand on something round and cold and dark and wet. I jumped out of the closet and screeched, "I just touched something weird!" Scout started crying, and Alex looked at me like I was a crazy person. I made him get the flashlight and investigate (thinking I had come across a nest of baby bats or something) and he made the gruesome discovery...check it out for yourself:
This is my hand trying to force itself through a sleeve that should look like this (below):
And below is my favorite leather jacket with its now-wonky left-hand sleeve that found itself sitting in a puddle of Damp Rid and shrunk up to half its size. It's ruined. I freaked. I blamed this stupid small house and its stupid small, damp closets. Then Catcher saw what was going on and came into the kitchen saying "Your hand doesn't fit? Aw. It's okay." How can you stay mad at something so silly after you hear that? Then Alex told me we could cut off the sleeves and turn it into a sweet leather vest. Now that's an idea.
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