The ART of not listening

In our family gift exchange for Christmas, we decided to give something that we from around the house to the person we had, the kids were included in this. Part of Hosanna's present was nail polish (thank you Aunt Kate!).

Well, she had asked to paint her nails and it just wasn't the right time. One day I caught her with it during nap time, I told her very firmly - you do not paint your nails by yourself, that's a job for mommy. She had gotten it open but hadn't really painted anything...until last Thursday.

It was nap time again, I was in the living room and I could smell what was cooking in the crockpot, but there was something else that I smelled - something strong and familiar. I went upstairs to check around. Hosanna was jumping back under the covers. On the bedside table were two bottles of nail polish, they were both open. There was pink paint on the table, on the sheet and the pillow case. I took a deep breath and marched her into the bathroom and stood her on the toilet, where I proceeded to remove all of the polish from her hands. I grabbed another cotton ball and told her she was going to take this and clean up the paint on the table.

That's when I looked down and saw the child's feet. I almost laughed out loud, her toes were absolutely covered in bright pink sparkly nail polish. Oh the joys of motherhood! I went to grab my camera, I just had to get a picture of this one.

Then I removed the polish from her toes and sent her back to nap time, once again reiterating that she DOES NOT use nail polish by herself. I then proceeded to put it up very high on the closet shelf.