Ink

This morning I mentally riffled through the day to make sure that what I was wearing would be appropriate for all the various activities I would be involved in. I had picked out one of my favorite shirts, though inexpensive, was purchased in the market place in Antigua Guatemala and carried a certain amount of sentimental value. It seemed a perfect outfit for the day, as I would be wearing it the whole day and would not have to change into a uniform since I wasn't going to work. Little did I know that the stakes were set against me for the day!

At the grade school that I do an internship at, there was a substitute teacher for the classroom in which I work. Wanting to help this new teacher the Teacher Assistant and I decided that it would be a wonderful idea to make name tags for all the kids. The TA handed me a marker and said something along the lines of “here, the tags wont smear it you use a permanent pen.” Confidently I popped open the lid to the marker, but to my utter amazement the marker EXPLODED in my hand! There was black ink running down the front of my blouse and splashing in small inky puddles on the floor! Now, my Guatemalan souvenir is laying in my room and soaking in an ink remover solution. So much for dressing appropriately for the day. Be ye warned, there are exploding markers out there, active and well!