has been caught in the path of more drool, pee and sick than I’m comfortable thinking about. But. I’m. Still. Wearing. It.
(It’s too fuzzy to wash without wreaking merry havoc on my dark clothes, so if I want a clean version, I need to buy one.)
I used to be hygienic, I’m sure of it.
is worth every bodily fluid he can throw at me. Honest.