My Sweet Children Are Systematically Destroying My Home

I had a blissful weekend away with some girlfriends which is a couple posts from now, and while I was gone John sent me this image:




It is orange marker. On my dining room chair. Complements of this funny (no, really) child:



That was four days ago. Today I realized I hadn't seen The Boy in a few minutes and I didn't hear him. We know what he is capable of so I raced frantically around the house calling his name. I finally discovered him in my bedroom, squeezing 1/2 a bottle of this:



All over this area of my room:




Which then required this:



Because how else does one get a LOT of pink strawberry shampoo out of carpet? To be honest, Fooz got it out for me because she has the wet vac and I stayed with my screaming children (who are deathly afraid of vacuum cleaners). Actually, to be completely honest she even had freaking-out-Johnny for most of the time because as scared as he is of vacuums, he loves Fooz more and he wanted to cry with her over me. I'm okay with that. Just like I'm okay with my son smelling like Strawberry Shortcake because he deserves it. For the record, he did feel terrible and couldn't even look at me for awhile. At least I know he has a conscience. Now all we need to do is teach him how to run away from temptation.

So, I'm just wondering what is next for the week?

And I wonder why I haven't had time to blog lately...