The Blue Handprint

There’s a reason I don’t blog when the boys are awake.  It may take me longer to get around to reading, commenting, and writing, but it’s just not smart when you have a three-year-old and a twenty-two-month old.  Sometimes I forget why I have the rule, and I need to be reminded.  My dad says it’s the blonde genes coming out.

 

Yesterday I kept telling myself I’ll just read one more post, make one more comment.  Evan, who woke first, was happy to color on the table next to me with markers, telling me what he was drawing and what they were saying.  When he grew bored and wandered away to play with cars, Sean replaced him, coloring with glee.  It was at this time that I thought I was being a bad mother and decided to play with the boys.

 

I picked up the markers and brought Sean out to play with Evan and me.  Soon after we started playing, Evan let out an “oh my gosh.  I need to go potty.”  I went with Evan, leaving Sean alone.

 

I wasn’t gone that long.

 

So I thought.

 

I also thought I had put away all the markers.

 

When I returned to the room, Sean was busy coloring his hand blue.   BLUE.  Every part of his hand was BLUE.  BRIGHT BLUE.

 

Sean looked up and smiled his huge beautiful smile.  “Blue!” He showed me his hand.  “Blue!”

 

I stood still with shock as I stared in horror at Sean’s wet bright blue hand as he sat in the middle of the floor of light tan carpet in a rental home.

 

Ok, go get the paper towels.  I took two steps toward the kitchen, away from Sean.

 

No!  Wait.  What if he touches the carpet when I’m getting the paper towels?  Where are the wipes?  There they are.

 

I took three steps toward Sean who was sitting near the wipes.  He looked at me with confusion written all over his face.  I tried to give him a reassuring smile, which might actually have been a grimace.  But what ever look I gave him, it was clear that he thought it meant we were going to play “Catch Sean.”

 

With a big grin on his face, Sean dropped the marker and placed his hands in front of him to get up and run.

 

NOOOOooooooo!

 

I crossed the room and picked him up.  I stared at the blue handprint stain on the carpet.

 

I carried him facing away from me to the bathroom, where I scrubbed his hands cleaned.  I returned to stare at the stain.  Should I run check the magic box for an answer or should I just start dapping it?  Windex worked on the nail polish stain.  Would it work with markers?  What should I do?  What should I do?  What should-

 

My eyes landed on the baby wipes.  The magical baby wipes that had taken out poop stains, urine stains, even a pen stain.  I dropped to my knees and started to clean the stain with baby wipes.  Once the stain was almost gone, and I couldn’t get it out any more.  I checked the magic box, which said to use hand sanitizer.  And you know what?  It worked.

 

And Sean was so curious that helped me blot it out, and then I decided it was time to play outside.

 

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