I was away in Las Vegas last week, at a conference for my job. While there I left my kids in the more-than-capable hands of my dear husband.
Let me tell you about my husband. He's an engineer. He likes things to be correct and precise and routine. He does not like change, alligators or things getting broken. Or dirty. Most especially his car.
Picture, then, my reaction to his Facebook post on one of the days I was away
I was nearly afraid to call him that night. He loves that car with every fiber of his being. And he's been so successful at keeping the kids away from it. They aren't allowed to eat or drink in daddy's car. There are no spare chicken nuggets floating around under the seats like in mommy's car.
The truth is I never did talk to him about it. I didn't want to bring it up, and it seems he's forgotten about it (for now), so I'm certainly not going to revisit it.
(if anyone DOES have any good ideas for getting pen out of leather I'd be happy to hear them)
It got me thinking about all the stuff my kids have probably ruined. Most notably my house. My poor house. It was brand new when we bought it six years ago. I'm pretty sure we could never sell it unless we repainted every square inch, replaced carpets in a few of the rooms and made some other big fixes.
My kids are not destructive by nature, but they do break things as kids tend to do.
There is red permanent marker (Sharpie to be exact) on the floor of Ben's room from the day he learned to make circles and was so excited to practice. The floorboards next to our bathtub are no doubt about to give way and dump our tub into the living room below from all the water that's been splashed out on them over the past few years.
Every wall in our kitchen is splattered with some sort of spaghetti sauce from their "learning to eat on my own is FUN!" phase.
I sort of see them as scars. And people say scars give people character, right? I guess sharpie and pen and rotting wood give my house character.
I have to laugh or I might cry. I'm lucky nobody's tried to stick a coin the DVD player yet. There's even a website where parents can share their horror stories. Thankfully none of my stories have been that bad. But it sure is funny (and scary) to read.
So what damage have your kids done to your house, car or other precious item?