A while back while on a quest for products to do the annual obligatory spring cleaning, I started my search with window cleaner in the aisle of Target, I heard a voice behind me. It was kind of an anonymous whisper, “Vinegar.” I turned around to see a 50ish kind of woman with long graying hair. In defiance I picked up the manufactured window cleaner containing ammonia and who knows what else that is bad for you.
Around the corner, I sought out bathroom cleaner. The voice again behind me squeaked, “Vinegar.” I recognized the plaid flannel shirt and worn out jean and shoved a can of aerosoled bathroom cleaner into the basket. I threw in some extra strength toilet bowl cleaner for good measure.
The shelves on the next aisle held a broad assortment of kitchen cleaners. I wanted something all purpose. Behind me again, I heard “Vinegar.” The voice was a bit louder and more persistent this time. I didn’t bother to look at the perpetrator and instead grabbed two bottles of bleach scented kitchen cleaners… one for counters and a stronger one for floors.
Pet odor eliminator was next on the list and the orange scented spray bottle of deodorizer seemed like it might do the trick. BUT, there she was right behind me. This time I beat her to it. “Vinegar,” I blurted out. She rolled her eyes in response and taunted, “No, baking soda.”
Now would someone please tell me how to get the newspaper ink out from under my fingernails?