I washed my husband’s wallet. It was obviously an accident but I’m in trouble. See, there were photos in it. And by were, I mean they are now garbage. While this isn’t the first time they have been washed, this is officially the final time. And the thing is, unless I can track down my senior portraits from, oh, 8 years ago… they can’t all be replaced. *sigh* This is what I get for trying to be helpful and wash my hubby’s grungy jeans. I’ve already searched every box in my utility room (and emptied out 4 in the process, go team me) and my portraits aren’t there. So now it’s up to mom to track them down at her house. *double sigh*

Update: My mom found them.