gatorade, a cautionary tale

Yesterday I parallel-parked at soccer practice and chop-chop-ordered Isaac to put on his shin guards, to check that his ball had enough air in it, to forget it if his socks did not match, one white and one navy would do. This is our existence these days, hurry, hurry, hurry every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, with three soccer practices in a row. In the midst of this, Isaac holds up his uniform jersey. The last time I’d seen it, packed in his backpack, it was white. Now it was pink. He’d put a bottle of Gatorade in his backpack, and the top had not been screwed on tight. This felt like the makings of a $75 accident. Or however much the “kit” cost. (The white shorts had been drenched in Gatorade, too.)

Later that same evening, Google research suggested that Gatorade stained without mercy. Well, not always. This morning I washed the jersey and the shorts separately, in warm water, with Tide, and that uniform is pristine white. There is no trace of Gatorade. Now if only if someone tell me how to remove virgin olive oil from my favorite knit top, we’d really be in business.

I’ve been entering sweeps here and there. A little while ago I entered one with a Grand Prize trip to Milan and a First Prize trip to New York. It’s a daily that runs through October 17. Check it out HERE.