Am I pretty, Mommy?

My sister was over the other day, and we were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Such a normal, grown-up thing to do, isn't it? I was completely enjoying the adult conversation, gossiping about our other sister and common acquaintances, when my girls decided they were bored and wanted to sit with us.

Have you ever been at a concert, and tried to tell the person next to you something without screaming directly into their ear? That's what it's like to try to talk in the same room with my daughters. Luckily, I had a diversion for them. I had two brand-spankin'-new coloring books just waiting to be scribbled on and torn to shreds. I put them on the living room floor with a handful of markers and sent the girls to color.

Yeah, I know, markers seem like a bad idea, right? Well, we don't have crayons in the house anymore since my two year old started eating them. The first time I opened a diaper and saw Rainbow Brite inside, I pitched the crayons. Thanks to my sister-in-law (who is clearly childless), we have a nice collection of washable markers, so that's what they got.

I went back to my coffee and conversation. The girls colored quietly for a long time. In hindsight, I realize it was too long. Their attention spans are about as long as the list of people willing to keep my children overnight, so I should have been suspicious that I drank a full cup of coffee without seeing them move from the floor. They tricked me because they never moved. They laid there quietly on their tummies, open coloring books in front of them, not making a sound. They're getting too smart.

Anyway, I was so caught up in my peace and quiet that I didn't question what they were doing. I was animatedly telling a story to my sister about our last trip to the Magic Kingdom when I saw her eyes widen. Her jaw dropped open, and I paused in my story. I hadn't even gotten to the shocking parts yet, so what..... oh, no. I turned my head.

My beautiful little girls were standing next to the table with very big smiles on their faces. They asked if they looked pretty. I'll let you decide.




That was nearly a week ago. Let me tell you that washable markers are not quite as washable as Crayola would lead you to believe. If you look closely right around Molly's ears, you can still see pink.

The morals to this story are as follows:

• Do not assume that washable markers are really washable.


• Do not assume that because you can see your children, that they are behaving.


• Do not assume that adult conversation will be a part of your life before your children are in college.