Disasters, Part 2

This happened on Dad’s watch, so at least I don’t have to beat myself up that they got me again just four short days later, but the other day, while I was in the shower, and hubby was downstairs with the girls, they apparently felt the need to paint. With white-out. On chairs, the floor, and light switches, as well as their own hands. The thing about white-out, it doesn’t come off. Not with acetone, Mr. Clean magic sponges, 409, or Orange Clean. I know, because we tried. We tried everything. I was able to scrape most of it off the light switches, and eventually it started coming off of their hands, but the kitchen chairs are not being so cooperative, and neither is the floor. Luckily the kitchen floor is white linoleum, so, from a long enough distance, you can hardly tell.

String Bean painted her name on the back of one of her sister’s chair, and even though I’m annoyed that it’s there, I’m glad to see she spelled it right, and that all of the letters are facing the right direction (lately she’s been regressing on writing her name, something she could write at 2 years old perfectly, reversing the letters or writing it from right to left).

I won’t bother saying that I hope they learned a lesson here, because even as they were being scolded, they were all too proud to parade me around and show me everything they’d painted, from the kitchen to the family room. I also won’t bother saying that hubby and I learned a lesson here, because our lessons so far are to keep them away from kitty litter and white-out, and we know all too well that the next potential disaster to catch their attention won’t be on that list.