I have these pens that I really like, they're not bic pens, I'm not really sure what kind of pens they are, but, I just love them. And I try to keep the family away from them, which is a nearly impossible task. So I have resorted to trying to save the pink one, because I love it. The ink is not pink, they are all black ink - but, the outside is a very pretty dark pink and I just like it. You can tell that it is my favorite because the ink is almost gone. Whenever some little hoodlum or their evil sire reaches for a pen, I holler out, "Don't take the pink one!" Heh. And that is all I seem to be left with right now. I am pretty sure, though, that the orange one is in Sammie's room. And I was lamenting one day that the pink one was almost out of ink, and I guess I was overheard by a hoodlum-turned-sweetheart, as Shawn later says to me, over dinner, "You know, Mom, all you have to do to keep the pink one longer, is just open them up and switch out the ink from the orange one to the pink one."
DUH! I didn't even think about that! It may sound funny that so much fuss would be made over pens, but, pens have always been a special thing for me. Pens, pencils, paper, and all of that good stuff. My friend, Deb, was just blogging the other day about how all her life, even now, she has just loved getting a new notebook, or new, fresh paper - or a new pack of pens. She spoke of the same warm, fuzzy, joyous feelings I've always had over such things. It's lovely to find someone that understands you. And I suppose Shawn does, too - as he cleared my head up about saving my pink pen! Yeah, now that I think about it, he is the same way. He once hung onto a mechanical pencil given to him by his second grade teacher, Mr. Chapa - for years! And when he lost it, he was devastated!
Pens, paper, ahh, such glorious and lovely things!