03 February 2016


9:30 AM- I begin straightening the living room. Yes, it was clean when I went to bed not so many hours ago, but then my kids woke up. S puts herself on book duty, picking up a half a dozen books that the babies have already read and strewn about. A crayon is tossed out from behind the sofa. I pick it up and put it away, assuming S came across it whilst picking up wayward books.

9:35 AM- I notice that S has put a throw blanket along the back of the couch and has arranged the pillows. I don't typically keep a blanket there, but I like when she takes the initiative on a task. Plus, I like her style.

11:00 AM- I finish cleaning the smashed chips from the sofa. The ones that the babies dumped out and smashed while I was putting in a load of laundry. I notice red crayon on the blanket that S had draped across the back of the couch earlier. I pull it off and spread it out to get a closer look.

Me: It looks like someone drew on this blanket.

S: It was LB.

Me: It's red crayon, and I remember you threw a red crayon out from behind the couch.

S: I didn't do it. LB did it!

Me: I didn't say it was you. Did you see her do it, though? It's not right to say someone did something if you don't know for sure.

S: Okay, I drew on the blanket.

11:05 AM- Mystery of the blanket has been solved. I start lunch.

11:06 AM-

S: Uh, mom? I love your hair and... I COLORED ON THE COUCH.

11:07 AM-

11:15 AM- I continue to scrub the couch as I realize just why the blanket was placed over it. S walks over to take a look. I attempt to talk about taking care of our things.

Me: It's not okay to do things that might ruin our belongings. I'm disappointed because I looked for a long time to find this couch. I wanted to get one that was just right.

S: Well, it wasn't very comfortable. Now we can get a new one that's actually soft.

11:16 AM- S wanders off. I step back to survey my progress and in doing so realize the drawing not only spans the entire back of the sofa, but extends to the side as well.

11:17 AM- I remember why I started referring to my children's mischief as art installments. It seems a bit more cultured and, really, that's as cultured as we're going to get for awhile.

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