magic eraser

I was irritated about an hour ago, as I scrubbed, with one of the world’s greatest inventions, the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, multiple sized fingerprints of lipstick and eyeshadow from multiple heights on my white walls along my stairs…three wee-girls who love to play dress up and apply daring feats of eye liner applications, seem to be unaware of the gleaming stainless steel railing that runs along the stairs and prefer to drag their little hands down the wall, the one with no railing, as they descend from the loft…So I was irritated as I wet and then squeezed out the magic eraser, and as I started scrubbing, different thoughts raced through my head than the usual ones…like, normally I marvel at the miracle of white softness in my hand and wonder what on earth they put in this thing? that makes it work like magic…but today I looked at the little finger prints, hot pink, red, teal, and black and I thought; I bet every 20 of those women in Newtown Connecticut, who also think the magic eraser is the world’s greatest invention, would give ANYTHING in the universe, ANYTHING, to have to wipe away one of those little fingerprints on their walls…one more time.

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