Some boys play in the mud to get dirty while others are a bit more creative...this would be my son.
We have had Vaseline followed by baby powder painted on the boys dresser (that I had just painted denim blue).
He has used my makeup as finger paint.
Then there was the time I managed to get diaper cream off my black leather sofa.
He has used my makeup as wall decoration.
There have been the permanent markers on the doors (he claimed he needed a door handle that was "just his size".
He has used my makeup as carpet dye.
There has been poo smeared on the wall, I guess thinking if he just kept wiping it would eventually come off his fingers.
He has used my makeup on the dog.
Well, after the 547th time of telling him not to touch my makeup for his personal pleasure...
I walk in the house (believing that everyone has been napping) after running a few errands, and all is quiet. First red flag! Walk into the girls room to see them playing nicely with each other. Walk into the boys room to find Abraham fidgeting on his bed, "where is Ezra mama, he went to the bathroom a looooooong time ago?" Second red flag! I walk into my bedroom to see my dear hubby sleeping peacefully on the bed. Third red flag! I walk into our master bathroom to see remnants of my makeup scattered about. As my blood pressure is working itself into a heart attack, I move in to see where where my beloved child is located, and that is what I find...
How do I go about it? I laugh, not in front of him of course. I mean this whole fascination my sweet son has with makeup could eventually cost me a fortune. So I wake up dear hubby to administer discipline, and he does so while telling my son, "do you see mommy with her face in the pillow, thrashing about, kicking her feet and pounding the bed...can you hear her wails of sorrow for what you have done? You cannot touch her makeup again or we may have to send you packing."Okay, slightly dramatized, but if you only knew what a day in the life of Ezra was like!