Crusty Nickelback T-shirt

Cole begged and begged for us to take him to the Nickelback concert. After the Bon Jovi ordeal, in which we missed much of the concert, we swore off concerts for Cole until he was at least ten. So, to make up for not indulging Cole in the concert I asked my friend, Penny, if she would pick up a Nickelback t-shirt since she was going.

Needless to say, he was thrilled with the black tough-looking Nickelback souvenir. He wore it for three days after receiving the precious shirt. (Luckily he didn't have school, so his Cheeto stains were only noticed by his parents.) I finally made him take it off, so I could at least launder it.

Good thing too! Because he needed to wear it the following Monday. So, instead of washing it with my next load of darks, I decided to leave it in the hamper awhile. Then Thursday came, and Cole came walking out with the filthy t-shirt. (As all mothers know, a 7-year old boy can only wear a shirt once before a good Oxyclean-infiltrated washing is necessary.) "No way, Cole. Put a clean shirt on." Dejection. Luckily, he has five more black t-shirts that, at the very least, remind him of his prized t-shirt.

This weekend, I found myself washing darks, and threw old Nickelback in the machine. So, when I folded Cole's t-shirts, I carefully placed it in the bottom of the t-shirt pile, fairly hidden. As you might guess, this morning, as we were ready to leave for church, Cole comes out of his bedroom, wearing his trusty, Nickelback shirt. "Sorry, Cole. Let's show a little more respect for God today. Especially since it's our turn to give offertory."

Next time, Pen, let's pick up a few more Nickelback shirts -- perhaps one for each day of the week. Except for Sunday.