White Pants

There's something about kids and white pants, white anything really. They seem irrevocably drawn to anything white. Not only are they drawn to it, but is seems as though they feel a certain need, a certain responsibility to make sure that whatever article of white that they come across must needs be marked- with something, anything to break up the seemingly monotonous white.
As I was doing laundry this morning, I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I put into the wash a pair of white capris that I had only been able to wear for a few hours due to the "white pants with kids problem." The capris were sporting two chocolate kiss marks on the knee, where my beautiful daughter, Gabi, had so lovingly placed on them while I was sitting down folding laundry earlier this week.
Maybe the child is not the one to blame. I am the parent, I am responsible for the actions of my innocent child. I choose to wear the white despite the inevitable outcome, yet I still wear them. For the love of my kid, the love of laughter, and the love of my white capris, I will probably continue to wear them.
Oh well, they're just white pants, anyway, right? :)