Hm. Life with a Parasite began when I was pregnant. Now that I'm pregnant again, I guess the definition of Parasite the Elder must change since her sibling is currently sucking a lot more out of me than she is. How about I just call her M? Great! Glad that's settled.
M is quite the burgeoning little artist. Well meaning relatives attempt to foster this talent with gifts of art supplies, which often includes markers. Gee, thanks! Try though I may, this kid's art will not be confined to spaces that make me happy like, you know, paper on the dining room table or the goddamn easel in her room designed for this express purpose. My dining room chairs and the chair I use in the living room are made from light-coloured fabric. To a three year old, this is a blank canvas that cannot be ignored. If you think this means the brand new markers she got for Christmas are being used to "decorate" my light-coloured furniture with gusto, your thinking is absolutely correct.
You might think this would make me angry. Nope, not at all. I think if you're going to get all bent out of shape over a little marker on the chairs, you should probably reconsider the decision to have kids. Having said that, I still feel compelled to clean it up. The markers used today came from a little portable white board set, complete with dry erase markers and their eraser. When I asked M how we were going to get the marker off my chair she said, very matter-of-factly, "I'll just use the eraser." Well if I had been mad, it would have evaporated then and there. This kid. She cracks me up.
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