The Marcus Diaries: Part III

About two months ago, we had an unfortunate incident where bf was cleaning his favourite thing (the loo) whilst wearing his favourite garment (a brown t-shirt). Bleach flicked at him from the loo brush. Possibly due to his line of work, he does not take well to fluids being flicked at him. He was upset. Particularly upset when he realised that the cleaning of the favourite thing had caused the inadvertent destruction of the favourite garment. Small white bleached spots had appeared all down the front of it.

Now, we are currently saving all the money in the world for things such as wedding rings and honeymoon food. Buying a new favourite brown t-shirt (from bf's favourite - and rather pricey - shop) was not an option. I thought - What Would Marcus Do? And of course I knew, instantly. Even before I had asked the question. Dylon Dylon Dylon.

I went to the hardware store. Lots of watering cans, but no dye. I went to the chemist. Lots of hair bobbles, but no dye. I walked into town. Lots of tourists. Instinctively wanted to go to Woolworths. Sad! Went to a fabric shop. No dye. Went to the market. Dye!! BUT. Bath is a very nice Georgian city. News of the Washing Machine does not appear to have reached the Nice Georgian City. It was therefore Dylon hand dye. I thought: Dylon! How wrong can this go?!

I will tell you later about the Saga of the Hand Dye. When I got to the speckled-water stage above, I had to call Marcus for expert advice.