We were cleaning up the kitchen after supper.
Anika was still in her high chair.
Elizabeth wanted to work on her “project” which had been a mix of markers, water color paints and pipe cleaners she had been working on all weekend.
Half of her project was on the dining room table and the other half was spread across on the island in the basement. She was going back forth up and down the stairs while we cleaned up the kitchen.
For a few minutes she seemed strangely quiet and I asked Nathan what she was doing on her project but he said he had just heard her washing her hands in our main floor bathroom which has become routine for Miss E. She washes her hands at least a dozen times a day.
Just then she appeared from the bathroom, proclaiming…
“Yook (look) at my hands!”
Miss E had dug out a plastic storage bin that I keep acrylic paints in and we have previously used them for Hunter’s school projects. They were off limits for Miss E. But she found them necessary for her project and told us post-painting the paint “yeaked (leaked)” and so did the glue.
The paint did not just leak on E’s hands and clothes but across two floors of our house including furniture, flooring and bathroom fixtures.
There were about 87 spots of paint like this from the basement to the main floor.
I attacked the carpet, furniture and paint “project” clean up when wrangling Anika only to find…
my favorite man on earth cleaning the main floor after he had soaked Miss E in the tub.
But this paint will be haunting us…and amusing us for years to come.
Doesn’t everyone have one of “those” stories from their childhood? The story that parents tell them repeatedly throughout their childhood into adulthood. I have a couple of scars to remind of my childhood “stories”. Thankfully Miss E is scarless and clean with only some stained clothing as a reminder of her story we will be retelling for decades to come.
Oh, no! What a mess! You have such a good attitude…I hope to have your motherly patience and disposition, my dear.
Oh wow!! That is one you can remind her of when she gets older! Thanks for visiting our blog!
OH KATIE!!! My heart would have been pounding! Usually quite at my house means someone has a scissors and missing some hair.
I was lucky. There never was a paint mishap at our house. Apparently the paint dried up some time between the time my son (who is five years older than my daughter) used them and my daughter WANTED to start using them. My daughter did just get glitter ink on one of her shirts and I didn’t notice it until AFTER I washeed it. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was just a blob in the tummy area, it would almost look like it was supposed to be there!
Oh boy, what a fun mess. I would have been in tears. the story will live on for years to come. She is a cutie tho.