Andy vs. Marker

I should have seen it coming. I should have been smarter than this. Really, its my fault. But he's been so good lately. He's barely eating any sand from the sandbox. He didn't even think about tasting the dead centipede he found. But, still, he's 2. And this is the child who took a giant bite out of Play Doh.

No, that's not a snack cake. That's Play Doh.

Needless to say, Andy was playing with markers this weekend. We were cleaning out the office and the markers seemed like a good idea. They kept him in the chair and out of our way. In the blink of an eye, he'd put a marker in his mouth and the marker started to bleed. Everywhere. And it didn't taste good, so Andy used both hands to get the ink out of his mouth. Which only accomplished smearing the ink all over his face. And his shirt. And hands. Under fingernails. You get the picture.

I practically threw him in the bathroom, desperate to contain the ink. Have you ever tried to scrub your child's tongue? No easy feat. Lots of biting. There was ink everywhere. On his face, on the counter, all over his clothes, his hands, my hands, his legs. The stool. The tile. The bathroom rug. The bottoms of feet.

The carpet.

Blotting didn't work. Anything else just smeared the ink. It was at this point we gave up the fight. We were turning everything red. Yes, RED. Andy ate a red marker.

To his credit, he also ate an adult-sized portion of meatloaf for dinner tonight. Yummy, he told me.

Glad to know my meatloaf tastes better than a marker.