markers

I'm busy deep cleaning the house.  I don't know what you do but vacuuming the master bedroom is considered deep cleaning around here.

So I'm in vacuuming my bedroom when my arms and legs start feeling funny.  I'm pretty sure it's cause no one has bumped into me or pinched me, or clawed at me in at least ten minutes.  I see the big boys in the living room; Jack is reading a book to Ty.  The little boys were out of sight and quiet. 

When they are quiet and off by themselves I always think, "I wonder if they are doing something they shouldn't be."  Which is hilarious that I still wonder after 6 years of parenting and a success rate of 100% on the "doing something they shouldn't be."

Still I wonder when I should be walking in there armed with a box of wipes and a magic eraser.

I enter the play room.

The three-year-old looks up at me and says with much enthusiasm:


"We got mustaches!"

I must have had a bad look on my face because his next words were:

"We not do this never again. Never again. Not tomorrow."

I haven't said anything at this point, I just walk over, take the markers from the boys hands then turn to leave the room to get wipes. 

Austin starts his bargaining:

"We clean this up so we not get spankings."

I'm not sure if that was a question or a declaration.


So if anyone wonders, this is why my youngest two will not know how to color when they enter Kindergarten.

This is after he already cleaned a ton off (see wipe in hand)

 



He thought it was pretty amazing.

 



The main target was the toy overhead projector --which is supposed to be used with the markers.  This is just the collateral damage.

He was using dry erase markers --lucky for him.

While I was wiping everything up he says: "Mom, some got on the paper." 

One day he will be apologizing to his teacher for coloring on the paper.  The woman is going to think I raised them under a rock...

...And she'll probably be right.