Tonight my family was enjoying a little down time, watching the Mythbusters (Like any good family would be) when the pitter patter of my sons little feet was heard coming down the hallway. He had a smile on his face that lit the room and something odd under his nose. Now, as any good mother will tell you, the appropriate response to this is, "What the hell is all over his face?" To this my husband responds, " I have no....wait, is that marker?"
I pull my son close and peer down at him, and sure enough, it is black marker. Great, my son now looks like a little tiny Hitler. I pull out a trusty wet wipe and begin to scrub at the offending mark while my husband runs to our room to find the marker in question. A few seconds later I hear, " Oh good God!" This is not a good thing.
I walk to our room, two year old close behind and find my husband staring at the computer screen which is now covered in black art work, courtesy of my son. I surpress a laugh and my husband says, "I knew it was too quiet back here." My son climbs up on his fathers lap, smiles widely, points to the computer and says, "Pretty colors." He is very proud.
We washed the screen, had a good laugh and learned that the Sharpies must now be kept on top of the refrigerator along with everything else the two year old shouldn't have. It was a good night.
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