Our friend, Jessica, and her daughter, Delia, came over for a playdate this week. After we fed the kiddos, they scampered off into the living room to play with Kai's Christmas presents and the mommies to the opportunity to fix up our plates and have a bite to eat. We were listening to their happy play as we sat in the next room savoring our two minutes of uninterrupted conversation. They were out of sight 2-3 minutes tops before I decided to peek my head around the corner and check out what they were doing. Queu the shark attack music....Dah nah, daaaaah nah, dah nah, dah nah, dah nah.....
Yup. Markers. I wish I had gotten close up shots...they were QUITE a sight. Faces, hands, necks, inside of mouths, walls, the mirrors, the window, the art table, stools, and the red end table. We were singing Crayola's praises for having invented washable markers. Everything came clean. The kids helped with clean up and we eventually resumed our eating once the contraband had been collected. And that, folks, is why Kai cannot be entrusted with markers, paint or crayons without direct supervision. My bad; I totally forgot that they were left out.
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