Kids

My kids kill me. Eliza walked downstairs, lisping that she wants to l-look l-like a Native 'Mewican, and so she needs to use crayons to put stripes on her eyes and cheeks and arms. I told her that crayons probably wouldn't work, so I put a couple light pink lipgloss stripes on her cheeks.

I went upstairs to use the bathroom. The boys were in there, fully decorated, with "tribal markings" courtesy of Crayola Markers. They were busily adding more patterns to their and each others' skin. I pointed out that the special markings weren't for everyday, and that they were probably well-enough decorated for whatever adventure on which they were setting forth. They reluctantly stopped coloring.

Now Eliza is trying to go outside naked.

Me: "Eliza, put your dress back on."
Eliza: "But Mommy, I want to look like a Native 'Mewican!"
Me: "Native Americans wear dresses too."

James assures me that the marker washes off skin. We'll see come bath time whether he's right.

Yesterday..

( I had lunch with Jennifer! )

Book Store. Paper. Ink. Books.

( I love the smell of a used book store. )