The Graffiti Artist

Today my daughter decided that she would rather not live to see her 3rd birthday.    At least, that’s the only conclusion I can draw, given all the button pushing she was doing!

Don’t push me, Genevieve!!!

Evie started her day by refusing to sit at the table, eat her breakfast or get dressed.  She went on to whine at me because Caillou wasn’t on TV, sprinkled water all over the kitchen and utility room floor, and stomped on the dog’s tail for good measure.

She knocked over chairs and threw books around her room to ensure that Henry’s morning nap didn’t last more than half an hour.  And then, while I was seeing to him, she found all our board games, and proceeded to liberally sprinkle the house with Monopoly pieces, Scrabble tiles and Articulate cards.

Plastic crap. All over my house!

A couple of hours later, after we had all got dressed, played with toys and had some lunch, it was time for Henry’s afternoon nap.   Evie was settled in front of Toy Story with an Oreo and some milk, so I decided to take the opportunity to collect up all the tiny green houses, red hotels and metal dogs/irons/top hats, and pack the board games away to a place where tiny hands can no longer reach them.   My intention was to spend an hour or so on housework while the Pepperlings were quiet.  And then I realised….they were too quiet.

Exactly!

Silence is never a good sign.

And nor is this:

This, by the way, is permanent marker. Thick, black, *permanent* marker.

Yes, I know there are leaves on the floor.  Sweeping the floor was one of the tasks on my “to do while Henry naps” list.   Was being the operative word.

Yes, it may well be a pretty cool interpretation of a fat Buddha, but it’s still graffiti. In my house, goddammit.

I would not be at all surprised if the teachers at Evie’s pre-school comment on the new words she might have learnt today.  There were certainly some choice ones being thrown around when I came across this mess!

And so, while we’re speaking of teachers, here comes the educational bit.

In my state of “oh-my-God-the-entire-house-is-covered-in-permanent-marker” panic, I asked the Internets for help.  That being Google, Facebook and Twitter.  Being the good Microsoft wife that I am, I will say that I also turned to Bing for advice – I may, or may not, be telling the truth there, however.

You all came to my aid admirably though, and wonderfully sympathetically too.   Proffered solutions included white spirit, nail polish remover, hair spray, Cif/Jif, baby wipes, rubbing alcohol, Bacardi, Fairy Liquid and good, old fashioned soap and elbow grease.

This is what I could come up with at short notice (I figured gin might work, in lieu of rubbing alcohol or Bacardi!):

One glass for the walls, one for me!

I can confirm that baby wipes do not work.  Not in the slightest – they didn’t make a single dent in Evie’s artwork.  Soap, fairy liquid and hair spray all helped, but only while using the scrubbing side of a dish sponge.  Which also took the paint off, obviously.

Nail polish remover worked to a degree, but just left our Buddha looking a little like he’d been left out in the rain:

Blurry, but not even close to being banished.

Gin, I’m sad to say, had not the slightest effect, despite Evie’s best efforts.

“Yelp, Mommy, yelp me!”

“Mommy” may have been busy with the rest of the glass, at this point….

In conclusion, having made the most awful mess of our beautiful paintwork, filling the house with the heady scent of gin, acetone, hairspray and partially dissolved gloss paint, I can confirm that the only way to successfully remove permanent marker from your walls is with a lot (and I mean a LOT) of patience, time and elbow grease, and this little magic helper:

Oh, Mr Clean, with your sexy hoop earrings and shiny bald head – will you marry me?

Job done.   Well, actually, job 20% done.  I ran out of both patience and time, so the hallway will need to wait for another day.

On much happier news, today People Magazine announced that Channing Tatum is the sexiest man alive.   Like, in the world.  THE sexiest man in the world.   Wow!!  It must be time for another gratuitous Magic Mike shot!

Well, helloooo……

You’re welcome.

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2 Responses to The Graffiti Artist

  1. Danielle Ruiz says:

    I love the end of this post. Awesome!

    Like

  2. Pingback: Alcohol really is the answer to everything! | The Peppers head Stateside!

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