Thursday, May 9, 2013

Silence Means Trouble

When it comes to kids, silence means trouble. We experienced that earlier this week when we discovered that Evie had taken a black permanent marker to several areas of Greg's aunt Kris's office. Oh, the horrors.

On Tuesday morning, I went to go get ready for the day. About ten minutes later, Greg joined me in the bathroom to get ready for the day as well. When we finished getting ready, we went to the den where Greg's mom was and Evie wasn't there. Maybe she's with Greg dad? We walk to the bedroom where Greg's dad was and Evie wasn't there either. It's been oddly quiet this whole time and we walk next to the office, the door to which was closed. Maybe we'll find that she's fallen asleep for a nap in there? When we opened the door, what we found was just the opposite. Evie was standing in the middle of the office, fist full of markers and pens, including an uncapped highlighter and uncapped black Sharpie. I felt a little bit like Eddie Murphy in the "I missed" bathroom scene from Daddy Day Care, about the 35 second mark of this video (although I will admit that poop is worse):

There was marker on just about everything within her arm's reach - closet door, bedroom door, portable crib, exercise equipment, framed art, easel, desk, chair, carpet, and her own hands, legs, clothes, and mouth. It. Was. Horrifying. Particularly because it was someone else's house and stuff. And it was a Sharpie. A Sharpie.

I took a few pictures of the aftermath, though not of everything since we were in damage control/clean up mode.

Closet door (this was after Greg had already cleaned off half of the markings):

Bedroom door (we didn't even see this at first until we walked into the room to inspect further):

Evie's hands/legs/clothes (could've been worse . . .):

Fortunately, between the cleaning supplies Kris had at her house and some denatured alcohol that we went out and got at Home Depot, plus some light sanding for one thing, it all came out. Hopefully we didn't stress Kris out too much (sorry, Kris!). I think this is one of those stories that will get told down the road when Evie is older. :D

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