Friday, October 3, 2008

Sorry in Red

There are a couple of interesting things to point out in this picture. The first and most obvious is the red crayon marks on the wall behind little Picasso Jr. You can also see water marks where Papa scrubbed for ten minutes trying to destroy the young artist's creative canvas. Next you will notice what appears to be a sad little boy getting scolded by his Papa. The scolding happened, for sure, but I know David and he is no sad little boy. In his head, I am quite sure that instead of asking forgiveness, his question was 'I wonder if that toy truck on the floor there can break glass?'

Why, you might ask, would I leave David alone with a red crayon. Good question, but I would still tell you to butt out and mind your own hooligans. The truth is, I did not know he had a red crayon.

We were making a welcome home sign for Mama and David's job was to color the 'WELCOME' letters. David frantically tore apart the crayon container which, I might add, is normally under lock and key and tucked away in the oven so that nobody, including Angie, would ever find them. [Author note: for the wee-minded, I do not really store crayons in the oven; the joke here is that Angie does not cook] David was absolutely crushed when he could not find his FAVORITE color red. I told him to just sit there and went off to search for a red crayon.

As soon as I left the room, David giggled, reached in his pocket and whipped out La Crayola Roja and proceeded with his indoor graffiti. How do I know all these details? Because Peter told me. He continued to color his nice little 'HOME' section blue and green as he spilled the beans on his little brother. It turns out he is not only a rat, he's also an accomplice.

Grams and Opa picked up Peter and David. I went to pick up Angie and Tom for the big homecoming and on my way into the hospital I noticed a sign that I had not seen on any of my previous adrenaline-rushed visits.

Even without the translation, you can clearly see that inline skating is not allowed. I might remind you that this is a maternity hospital. What kind of sick pregno-mom shows up to deliver wearing a pair of roller blades and a helmet?

I broke the tragic news to Angie that she would not be allowed to roller skate home and packed up all the nice gifts and toys that Tom had received and that David will surely be breaking in the very near future.

Before getting into the car, I tried to brace Angie for the shock of seeing the house after leaving it in my incapable hands for six days. She smiled nervously and got into the car. I didn't smile and nervously got into the car. It was a quiet ride home.

I had strategically placed the 'Welcome Home!' sign directly as you walk in to help soften the blow. It didn't work. The aftermath of a hurricane won't look any sweeter by placing a sugar cane on top of the destruction.

As Angie scolded me, my face drooped and I could only think of poor David. My eyes drifted slowly to the floor until something caught my attention. 'Hey! I wonder if that rubber band could be used to build a kick-ass slingshot?'
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I saw that Mama come home and, oh yeah, Tom, too.
David: When Mama come home mit that new baby. Tom.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Carol hurt herself over her eye.
David: When I have boogars in my nose.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to Dalia's - she's going to pick me up.
David: When I go'ed mit Mama sleep and read a book.

No comments:

Post a Comment