You'd Think I Would Know Better By Now

The girls and I decided to visit a new discount store that opened up near us. It turned out to be brought to you by the same people that own Ross. Danni found some cheap sunglasses (cue ZZ Top), Shannon a pair of jeans, and Kylie came out with this Strawberry Shortcake travel desk thing with paper that rolls across the flat part you can write on, and six smelly Shortcake markers. Markers. You would think by the time a child is five, the issue with the markers would be over. But not my child.

Yesterday afternoon, we're just kind of hanging out. Danni had to be back at school at 4pm to go to the away football game. I got back from taking her over to school, and Shannon was going to go to the mall for a bit and meet some friends. Into my room walks Kylie, her face covered...and I do mean covered, with red. I wish I had thought to take a picture, but imagine someone who had taken the time to cover every inch of her little face with red marker.

"Kylie! What is that? Why did you color your face?"

"Mom...it's for crazy face day."

She's thinking about the kids who paint their faces for the football games, I think. Or, they just had crazy hat night at Awana last Wednesday, so maybe that's where this is coming from.

"Ummm...as far as I know, there's been no official Congressional declaration of Crazy Face Day on October 12th."

"Mom!"

The markers came with a kid's toy, so they must be washable, right? Right??

Turning to dear husband, I say, "Can you throw her in the tub while I run Shannon over to the mall? Or...you can take the mall trip, and I'll throw her in the tub."

Hubby, knowing a break when he sees one, quickly says, "I'll take Shannon to the mall."

"Coward."

I looked at my small, red-faced child. "Get your clothes off while I start the water, ok?"

I get her in the tub, and tell her to close her eyes tightly, and I start scrubbing her face, along with arms and legs which have also received a few stray marks. After scrubbing and rinsing a few times, her face is still slightly red-tinged, but it's barely noticeable. I can live with that.

She wants to play in the tub, and we still have some time, so I let her. She is five now, and a good swimmer, so since I'm past the point of worrying about her drowning in 12 inches of water, I decided to go downstairs, get some laundry out of the dryer, check on dinner, etc. I'm gone for about 10 minutes. I should know better than this. Not because she's in any danger, but because of some sort of mess that always ensues whenever she's left alone for any amount of time, anywhere.

I go back upstairs to get her out of the tub. Pull the plug, get a towel, and wrap her up in it. There was a hand towel lying on the counter, so I picked that up to dry off her hair. I immediately noticed that it was quite wet. Upon further inspection, my entire bathroom counter is covered with water, and Kylie is quietly trying to sneak out of the bathroom.

"Kylie!!", I said sharply. "Why is there water all over the counter?"

She looked back at me over her shoulder, and just shook her head. "Mom, it's a long story," she said solemnly. "A long story."