The ink was permanent.  P-e-r-m-a-n-e-n-t.

An errant Sharpie seemed like the perfect tool for my kid’s class project (because why on earth would you want to use a regular marker or highlighter when you can use ink that will NEVER COME OUT?).  I should qualify that it seemed like the perfect tool to them because mama didn’t raise no fool and there was no way I’d put a permanent marker in my kid’s hand, upper elementary age or not.

Sheesh, kid, use a marker.

But no.  It was Sharpie.  Which made for a striking class project but also left a big (okay, a two inch) black line on my office desk.  A big fat black line of marker that would be there forever and ever amen.

I guess I should mention the office desk was the first piece of truly “nice” furniture BrightSide and I bought.  It was, you know, a desk grown ups would own.  I might have been overly invested in the concept, though, seeing as I may have lost a teeny tiny bit of my sh*t when I saw the Sharpie mark.

To my credit, though, I did apologize later for overreacting.

Yet there was still a part of me thinking, “It had to be permanent ink?!  Really??”

Linda’s Stream of Consciousness prompt is my Saturday writing treat.  This week’s prompt is “ink.”