First of all, to save me some explanation time, you should really read this post. Really, go read it ... I'll wait.*
*I'm giving you all the patience in my limited reserve, so feel privileged.
Back so soon? Awesome.
The post you just read was written two years ago. And what's horrible is that it still holds true. Two years later and I'm still struggling to keep my stuff intact.
You see, yesterday, Colin and Coby (7 and 3) were playing school in my bedroom. They do it all the time. When I went to check on them, they were sitting quietly on the floor - Coby filling out a "worksheet" and Colin pretending to be his teacher. It was one of those heart-melting Mom moments, actually, when they're not whining or bickering or kicking each other for the first time in like two months and you're all, "Awwww."
So, assuming all was well, I went to make dinner.
I should know better than to assume anything. EVER.
Because when you assume things are well, this happens:
That's my brand-new mascara all over his face. And the rest? Those smudges all the way from his shoulder to his toes? That is nail polish. But not just any nail polish - not a light neutral pink or something, ohhh nooo - it's a color called "Petrol" which is a nearly-black blue-green. (And which, despite repeated scrubbing with nail polish remover, still stains the skin ... so now Coby appears to have some weird rotting foot disease.)
As for Colin, my seven-year-old who definitely knows better but watched his little brother do all this anyway? He has this misguided perception that if he wasn't actually the one committing the act, then he's not at fault.
Yeah. Needless to say, that perception was promptly corrected.
But that didn't restore my makeup to its original condition.
PS - Wanna hear some GOOD news? I have a new giveaway up! Click on the "Giveaways and Reviews" tab above and check it out!