She wasn't sure why she had done it. She really hadn't done it since that time she had been in the tree in the backyard. A bird had landed on the branch above where she was sitting high above the ground. It had said a few chirpy words to her and then had made a deposit on her black sweater and flown away. When she wiped it it off, it had smeared on her fingers in a white streak. She had then wiped it on the front of her shirt.
After she quickly climbed down the tree and run in the house to tell Mama, her mama hollered at her and told her she should not have wiped the poo with her hand but should have come inside and let her clean it off with soap and water. Now she had smeared it and had to change her clothes.
Ever since then when she got anything on her shirt, she just let it stay there until she could wash it off and scrub it with soap or cleaner. The time however, when she dropped spaghetti sauce on her white blouse, she had immediately reached up and wiped it with her hand. There now was a streak all down the front and it was nearly time for her to meet her boyfriend's parents. Now they would know who she really was.
There was always the second impression.
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