So I wrote about it on Facebook right after it happened yesterday, but if you'd peeked into my downstairs window yesterday around 2 in the afternoon, you would have seen me weeping, scrubbing my cherished antique desk with a magic eraser, while simultaneously lecturing Maeve on the appropriate surfaces for the use of markers.
Oh my gosh, I love the magic eraser.
I wasn't really prepared for yesterday. I mean, I could tell she was up to something while I was practicing my choir music, but I foolishly hoped it wasn't too terrible. But Maeve has not previously been the Destroyer of Worlds, she's not a particularly, shall we say, artistic kid. In fact, this is only really the second time she has colored on something I couldn't fix.
Which is probably why I got a little hysterical when I saw what she had scribbled on with a hot pink Sharpie.
She also drew all over her arm with it, told me she wanted a tattoo like Daddy and Grandpa Dale. Which in the scheme of things was not a big deal, but oh. Gonna have to have a talk about how real tattoos are forever and take a lot of forethought.
I give myself credit, though. I didn't even get close to setting the child out on the step to sell to the Circus. I mean, I kind of cried at her and freaked her out, but I figured that was punishment enough.
Apparently, the 3-4 range is going to be the years of me finding her up to her eyebrows in trouble when left alone for ten minutes... remember the green food coloring incident?
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| The Culprit. |
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