A few weeks ago another one of my attempts at being crafty totally backfired.
There are quite a few adjectives that people would probably use to describe me, and I’d bet that not one person who knows me would ever utter the words, “Susan is so crafty.”
To put it frankly, I have no discernible artistic ability whatsoever. I had come to terms with that pretty early on, but I began to feel a little guilty when I had my first child. What if he was the next Michelangelo, and his talent never blossomed just because his un-artistic mother can’t even draw a straight line with a ruler?
Driven by my guilt, I went one day to my local craft store, loaded up on all things crafty. I then tried (and failed) at multiple art projects with Joey back when he was toddler. He never seemed too interested anyway, and even today doesn’t really like to draw or craft as much as he likes to build and create with blocks, legos, etc. My guilt slowly subsided, and my failed crafts faded from my mind.
In my designated art drawer, however, many of these items still sit, barely used, and serve as nothing more than a reminder of my failure to be a crafty Mom. The drawer is mostly filled with things I can handle like crayons, markers, scissors, glue, coloring books, pads, paper and paint.
One of my long forgotten items showed up a couple weeks ago, however, dumped in a pile on the dinning room floor topped with glue:
In a moment of exasperation over a ridiculous mess to clean up, and even though I knew what the pile was, I cried out, “what the hell is this mess?!”
A few seconds later the two boys came running into the dinning room. Both had on their best innocent faces, and Joey casually replied, “Well, Mom. I’m not sure, but I think that looks like unicorn poop.”
Four years after I bought the glitter -of which there were three large containers with different colors – it’s come back to remind me how uncrafty, and also how apparently stupid I am. Who buys giant containers of glitter anyway?
It’s been nearly three weeks, I can tell you that I’ll be reminded for years to come because no matter what I do, I’m still finding glitter everywhere.
It’s on my feet.
It’s on my clothes.
I’ve even seen it on my daughter’s ass when I change her diaper.
We’ve found it inside of books, in the kid’s hair, and I found some today on my baked potato.
Apparently, glitter stays in the environment forever…and ever.
Although each of my three children were repeatedly questioned, no one has cracked and confessed to said mess. Each remains a suspect, and I just hope to catch them in the act the next time…and knowing my kids, there is always a next time.
I placed the glue next to the mess for the photo, but it was actually found under the table in the dinning room in a separate sticky puddle.
And even though I had the best of intentions when I bought it, and it’s pretty, sparkly and pink, unicorn poop, no matter how you spin it, it still a pile of poop.
What’s the most ridiculous mess you’ve had to clean up from your kids? Leave me a comment!