Well, how was I supposed to know there were two dresses?

So, the other day Mother sent me on an errand.

See, the preacher at my church is a woman. Coincidentally, she and my mother had, at one point, owned the exact same dress. Mother thought this was particularly amusing. Anyhow, the dress does not fit Mother anymore. This is actually particularly convenient, because my preacher’s dress was ruined when it was accidentally washed with one of her young son’s crayons. It was the preacher’s birthday last week. Mother wanted to give the preacher her dress to celebrate this momentous occasion and to replace her sullied garment.

Mother insisted that I dry clean the dress, though, as we don’t want to go to Hell for giving a woman of God a dirty dress. So, Mother gave me a three piece ensemble to take to the dry cleaners and then drop off at the church office. I did just that, but the preacher was not there when I dropped it off. No worries, I left it with the secretary.

Yesterday, Mother asked where the second of the two dresses I took to the dry cleaners was. Two dresses? Oh, crap. Now I have to find some tricky way to get the second dress back from the preacher.

Forgive me, Mother, for I have sinned…

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