Our three-year-old son Jase recently decided to do a little artwork on one of the walls in my husband’s office while he was distracted editing newspaper pages.
He actuall removed a framed photo from the wall and drew his own interpretation of it.
His older sister had a good laugh about it and wondered aloud how her brother could do something so foolish. She wasn’t laughing anymore when I reminded her of the story of her debut into the “art world.”
The scene reminded me of something out of a horror movie.
All I saw was red...red, red and more red.
And the culprit was covered up under her comforter, still sound asleep with visions of tea parties and puppy dogs in her head.
When I opened the door to little Elsie’s room that morning, I wasn’t expecting to be greeted with the aftermath of a two-year-old on the loose with a red marker.
Elsie had discovered a red marker during the night, and she decided that midnight was as good of a time as any to become the next Picasso.
There were red marker streaks up and down her white, wood toy box. It was a brand new toy box that she had gotten for Christmas. In fact, I had noted with pride that it had remained so white and new.
Now the crisp, clean white paint was littered with bright red streaks on the front.
I took a deep sigh and reminded myself that it was just a toy box. It’s no big deal. Yes, it’s ugly...but it’s a toy box. Did I really expect it to stay fresh and clean in a child’s room?
Glancing over to my left, I saw that artist Elsie didn’t stop there. Her other toy box that holds her stuff animals had been attacked too.
Now mind you, I was more upset about this one.
This toy box was a vintage toy box that my husband Jason spent hours refinishing for his little girl. He took the whole thing apart, sanded it and stained it. He even put new fabric on it. He even picked the pretty pastel fabric print with little birds on it just for his princess.
And now the side of those pretty birds were covered with red lines and circles. Elsie really went to town on this one.
I heard myself grunt at the sight of this discovery. I even got a little mad about it. But what could I do? Sh was two years old.
But the art show didn’t end there.
“Come on baby,” I said to Elsie as she let out a little snort in her sleep. “It’s time to get up.”
As I pulled the cover back, I saw horrified.
Elsie had taken the red marker and painted herself as well. There wasn’t an inch of baby flesh left on her that wasn’t covered with red ink. She had slipped out of her pajamas, and everything outside of her diaper was covered in ink.
She had streaks of red up and down her legs. Her arms had circles all the way up to her shoulder. Her face had marks all over her cheeks. Her stomach had circles of red.
She even tried to “paint” her toenails and fingernails.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said. “Jason, you better come here.”
Jason entered the bedroom with a smile on his face. He thought I was calling him in there to show him a cute sleeping position or something.
But when he saw the red, his eyes enlarged about ten sizes. His mouth dropped. And I honestly believe he almost fell out.
“What....” he said, looking dazed and confused.
Elsie woke up with a smile on her face, reaching out for routine morning hug. She had no idea what was really going on.
Our son James even commented on the situation.
“That’s not good,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know James,” I said, taking her clothes off. “But she needs to get in the tub. And hurry up. We have to get to work.”
As I made her bed and tried to scrub off what marker stains I could, Jason was in the bathroom scrubbing Elsie down.
“Whoever made these markers were idiots,” he said, huffing. “It’s barely coming off. If I ever see a kid with a marker in this house, I’m snapping.”
We managed to make it to work on time. Elsie was clean, with a few red traces on her fingernails.
But her two toy boxes continue to serve as reminders of what a midnight art session will turn into once a toddler gets on the loose.
At least Jason had already endured the shock of an impromptu art session at home before our baby boy decided to showcase his talents in the office.
