Stick Marks

I was looking at the Doodle's favorite white helmet today and noticing all of the various dings, marks, dents, divets and scrapes. I had to stop and be thankful for that little white shield that has been protecting his skull most of the time. It also reminded me of a funny story.

Back in high school, I borrowed one of my friend's football uniforms and helmet so that I could dress up like a football player for Halloween. I remember smelling the jersey and wanting to throw up. My orange 76 Toyota Corolla reeked like sweat. So I went home after school and washed it. I remember thinking how dirty and gross it all was and trying hard not to imagine what went on in those tight white pants.

So I washed them.

I washed the uniform and scrubbed the helmet clean, or the best I could anyway. I remember the helmet had marks and little chips of paint all over it. So I used some finger nail polish remover and got almost all of the marks off. I was so proud of myself, I couldn't wait to show my smelly friend my handy work.

When he saw his helmet all pretty and clean he was mortified. He just about had a emotional breakdown. He almost cried. He was screaming at me, telling me he couldn't believe I cleaned off his "stick marks". I didn't understand. Apparently, those chips of paint were from him making head to head contact with the other team engaging them in battle on the field. The silly marks proved he wasn't a bench warmer. And evidently, they were supposed to stay on the helmet like a badge of honor or something.

Oooops. He never let me borrow his uniform again.