My niece spilled her fruit juice on my shirt while I lift her. She smiled and giggled. Her mum almost pinched her as she felt sorry. But I laughed "She’s just a child", I said. I removed the shirt and kept it in the laundry basket, even forgot about it.
The following morning, my sister brought a clean white shirt and said "This is the shirt big brother". I asked "Is this a new shirt?" She claimed she didn't buy a new shirt for me; she only washed it at The Laundry Room. I never knew the stained shirt could be so clean again. Thanks to The Laundry Room, Los Angeles.