T - Terrible Advice I've Given Myself

   I'm not the wisest person I've ever met, but I'm not an idiot, or at least that's what I think. Sometimes, though, I feel like the dumbest person in the world when I get myself into situations that I'd rather not be in.
   Before I begin, I am well aware that I should have thought this through more, before I did such a thing. But I did it anyway. It was a Saturday night, and I was writing in one of my notebooks, studying for the Bible quiz that was tomorrow morning. All of a sudden, my favorite pen stopped writing. I tried everything I possibly could think of to make it write again, but nothing helped.
   I then decided to take the pen apart and see if that could help. I opened it up, and removed the tube of ink. I had a great idea. I would take the tip of the pen off and blow the ink through the tube so it could write again. What could go wrong?, I told myself.
   I brought it to my lips and blew a light amount of pressure into it, but nothing happened. So I blew harder. All at once, half the tube of ink was sprayed across my left hand. I thought, Oh, crap, this better wash off. So I threw the inky pen and all of it's parts straight in the trash and headed to the bathroom to wash my hands.
   I started with soap and water, but then realized it wasn't coming off, it hardly even smeared. Worried, I remembered tea tree oil, (which was right in the cabinet above the sink) would take practically anything off your hands. So I got the bottle and dropped multiple drops into my palm. I started to rub it in.
   It smeared everywhere. Up my arms, under my fingernails, everywhere. It was then I went into a light panic. Tomorrow morning, I had to go to church, a restaurant, and then a quiz meet! I didn't want to go with purple/black hands!
   So I swallowed my pride and called for mom, who was downstairs. "Mom," I called, "I made a really bad decision." I heard her give a timid laugh as she was coming up the stairs.
   When she saw me, her eyes widened. I told her how I had gotten myself into this mess. Like always, mom remedied my situation with tea tree castile soap. After many washings and re-washings of my hands, there was only a slight difference in color of my ink covered skin, and my non ink colored skin.
   I could tell you about the time I dye part of my hair with the ink you use for stamps, or the time I time I dropped the last can of baked beans on the floor out of my own stupidity. Or maybe I'd tell you about the time I'd got my hand stuck between our banister and the wall (that happened when I was much younger.)
   Long story short, I've made (and have yet to make) a lot of bad decisions. But I'm learning, sometimes the hard way.