The Smudge

The Smudge

The other day, Mark and I shifted around the furniture in our office, to make room for our old couch to go up there. (Ever since we got our new couch, the old one got dumped in front of the fireplace, seeing as we had nowhere else to put it.) We decided to put the couch along the wall where Mark’s desk was, so we had to move Mark’s desk away first.

This is what we found behind his desk:

The Smudge

Me: ‘WHAT IS THAT?’ (I initially assumed that some overheated piece of technology had permanently scorched the wall or something.)

Mark: ‘Ummm, well sometimes I like to put my feet up under my desk…’

Me: ‘Your feet are THAT dirty??’

I went to the next room to get a wipey cloth, but when I came back, it seemed like an awful lot of work to clean the whole foot-smudge from the wall. So ….

The Happy Smudge

Problem. Solved.

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