My kid will want to kill me one day for sharing this, but what kind of Mommy-blogger would I be if I didn't?
I now work part-time from home. Its great to get up in the morning, have breakfast with my jammie-clad kiddies and then retreat to my office in yoga pants and a sweatshirt for a few hours of work. The only issue I have with the set-up is that my office has a door, which, as any mother knows, increases their child's interest in what they're doing exponentially.
So yesterday I'm working away when Will comes downstairs. I notice what look like scratches on his face.
"Will, buddy - what happened? Where did you get those scratches?" The kid, in turn, looks at me as if I've grown an arm out of my forehead.
"I no skatches, Momma."
I lean closer. Aha. Its marker.
"Honey, did you color on your face?"
"Nope. Nit-o-nis colored on me." Asking a two-year-old why he would let his brother color on his face is futile. I might as well ask the cat. Instead, I call on Nicholas.
"Did you color on your brother's face?"
"Uh, yeah. Sorry."
"Why would you do that? You know you don't color on anything but paper."
"I know. But I already colored on my peter and my butt, so..."
"YOU WHAT?!?" My kids know the proper names for their body parts, but I'm sure you can guess what he was talking about.
It was just this moment that Jay came downstairs and heard the conversation. Without saying a word, he picked the boy up and pulled down his pants.
Sure enough, his little boy bits were red. As were the scribbles on his derrier.
Choking back a laugh I asked, "Why would you color on that?"
"I dunno. Just cuz." He shrugged. I may as well have asked why he was wearing gray socks.
Jay and I both doubled over in laughter as we realized what Nick had said...that marker touched his little brother's face after it had touched his nether regions.
I am in such big trouble in a couple of years.