I found the lids of the marker pens. I locked my dressmaking scissors away and thanked Providence that there wasn't any blood on them. I flushed away the eggs and cleared up the shells. I gave Stephen a look that should have turned him to stone (to which he replied jovially, 'Hard work, aren't they?') and searched in vain for the damage that must have been wrought somewhere by the marker pens, judging by the state of Toby's hands.
I found it at bedtime. Toby, my pink and white catalogue-fodder toddler, has marked the election of the first black president of the United States by colouring his willy and most of his inner thigh area black.
It's permanent marker.
It didn't wash off.
It still hasn't.
Happy inauguration, Mr. Obama. If you're as tenacious, bloody minded and focussed as Toby, there really is hope for the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment