I was at home yesterday with Kynsie and Braylen, and let me tell you, even with the stomach virus, 2 kids is way easier than 3. You might find that statement ironic in a moment. So, we started with some activities after breakfast. We played puzzles and then had music time. Kynsie whacked Braylen upside the head with the guitar. Poor guy. Sis doesn't mean to, but she just bulldozes people. They did well with musis time. They play with a guitar that Mamaw and Papaw got them for Christmas and a band in a box set (pictured below) that Grammy & Grandad bought (from Cutie Tooties).Once I could see that Music time was losing its sparkle, I decided to get out the crayons and paper and let them draw. As they were doing each of these activities, I was sorting through summer clothes in an attempt to figure out what we still need before I go to the Duck, Duck, Goose Consignment Sale, and also in hopes of filling a couple of large boxes to take to Goodwill. All was well with the crayons and then I notice that Kynsie finds the markers that I deliberately left in the craft bag. She only pulled 5 out, and I observed as she drew on the paper and then put the lid back on the marker several times. No problem, I thought. She was less than 2 feet in front of me. How much trouble could she possibly get in that close to me with only 5 markers?
I look up from my pile of summer clothes 5 minutes later to see my little darling with an orange marker in hand drawing a nice little circle around her mouth. Our eyes met and she just crinkled her nose at me and grinned. Unfortunately she had already done the same thing with the black marker--trying to look like daddy, I suppose with a nice black beard. Here are the pictures.
Thankfully these were washable markers. Kynsie rather enjoys drawing all over things. As her uncle Dustin says "the world is her canvass". Kynsie colors on the walls inside, and on our front door outside (with sidewalk chalk). I would be remiss if I did not confess that she likely has some sort of genetic predisposition to this drawing madness. When I was her age, my mom left me in the living room with her new mustard yellow, tufted sectional couch. When she checked on me 3 minutes later I had taken a Bingo Dauber and polka dotted her new couch. I was even so thoughtful as to highlight each of the tufts with the dauber, using it like a marker. To add insult to injury, the ink was black and also permanent. Not to mention my parents couldn't afford a second new couch, so they were forced to keep my new work of art in the main living room upstairs in our house. I am sure my mother wanted to kill me.