Ink poisoning is impossible, unless you work at an ink factory
I called my SIL's mother last night. We were hosting dinner for some friends who just had a baby and I felt like pulling out the goods. I love pulling out the goods. Two friends were coming over with their two children. Compound that with our two children, and we would have four under the age of four and four adults.
Why did I call BeBe? Part of a story she once told me involved a little anecdote about the lavish dinner parties they would have when they were about our age with their finest silver, china, and crystal out... with a hundred children running around while they feasted. It was lovely and comical, all at once.
It sounded like a fun time and something I would love to be able to turn around and tell one day. As I set the table, LMC ran around finding paper plates that she could color. And toss on the ground. Once she saw the fish plates, she grabbed her goldfish and ate those off of a plate. I threatened her within an inch of her life if she touched anything other than the goldfish on her plate. Wisely, I opted for placemats instead of a tablecloth. Can't you just see a toddler not paying attention and playing with it... only for everything to come crashing down? I could.
As I steadily cleaned up paper plates with hashtags in an assortment of colors and sizes, LMC and Caleb found more fun things to play with- tutus (the ballet accessory and not the lady parts) and scooters at the top of the list. They ran around, laughed, and got their heads stuck in all sorts of places while the parents dined and found the adult conversations that we had all been craving.
The kids had fun.
The parents had fun.
The babies had fun.
It was a good night.
The next day, today, LMC and I decided that we needed to draw a picture for Tellis. She ran off with her markers and crayons. The markers got a little three-dimesnional and she must have been hoping that I would just package her up as the picture instead of the piece of construction paper.
Little did I know... oh little did I know... wait, let me back up.
A few months ago, Husband bought LMC a whale that came with a set of permanent felt markers. It was a great present- not only could she color on it, but she could sleep with it. Those markers found their way into the rotation of regular markers. And onto her face.
Discovering that a water soaked washcloth will only go so far, we put on our BGPs (big girl panties) and chalk it up to experience. Before the seasons changed at Dumbarton Oaks, we wanted to check out a freebie day. Figuring that we would see no one as there are 10 acres of gardens, you can imagine my surprise when I had to walk into the museum to get directions. Dumbarton Oaks is a museum and garden in Georgetown founded and maintained by Big Wig Harvard geniuses. People talk in hushed voices with tight buns and expensive loafers. Dumbarton is a museum dedicated to the Mayans and Byzantines art.
And in we walk.
"Hi, I'm Jed Clampett. Allow me to introduce my daughter, Elly Mae. This here attached to me is Jethro."
Needless to say, the docent stopped what she was doing and stared at us from above her reading glasses. All I could do was laugh as we walked out into those gardens we were in search of.
That ink will come off sooner or later, until then- I would never tell her such, but she's pretty damn cute.