This isn’t a post looking at my moral fiber. The reason I can’t wear white has nothing to do with my soul or *cough* personal matters.  It’s just plain bad luck.

Most days I don’t wear white shirts. About the only thing I wear that’s white on a regular basis is socks (which go gray) and underwear (which, well, I won’t say).  But those things can be covered up without any problem.  So I honestly don’t care if my whites are that white.

There are, however, a few shirts I have in white.  Case in point, a long sleeved t-shirt I just bought (not because I really wanted to, but because they didn’t have it in the color I wanted and white was the only other color that would work for me) I haven’t had much opportunity to wear it because it wasn’t cool enough. Well bring on fall and put on the long sleeves.  But damn the dirt I seem to get into.

Any other day of the week, when I am wearing brown, dark blue, green, or countless other colors that are much  more stain resistant than white, I stay spotless.  You could eat off of me (but let’s not try that).  I put on the white shirt and I become a dirt magnet. For some reason I always end up having to do some sort of manual labor or encounter 30, yes 30 separate dogs at the dog park today. Was there ever a day like that before? Oh no! You know why?  Because I didn’t have my white long sleeved t-shirt on that’s why. Dammit.