Mess maker, mess maker...make me a mess.

The smallest kid is trying to kill me. No, for real. He may be under the (false) impression that there is some million dollar insurance policy on me of which he is the sole beneficiary.

Today, no lie, less than 2, count 'em 2 minutes after I *tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen...to pour my self a cup of ambition* Chase follows me down, looking and smelling different than when I left him upstairs.

Me: What is on your cheek?

Chase: Wha? Nathing, mommy.

Me: No, there is something red there, come here...and what is that smell?

Chase: Oh, it is nathing.

Me: Is that...? Holy crap on a cracker. Is that NAIL POLISH?

Chase: Oh that? Oh, yes. It is. But just a little bit.

Me: Did you paint something?

Chase: Can I have some donuts?

Ugh. I walk up the stairs, preparing myself for the worst. I find a lover-ly abstract red painting on my yellow wall just at right about Short Stack height. Cheese whiz, wonder how that got there? So, I grab the nail polish remover and get to wiping while it is still wet, and not yet a permanent part of the wall. Looking into my room, now I see it is also on my door. How precious. Luckily I got it all off (along with a little of the wall paint, but you can't see it. Not unless you look for it. And I do. Every time I walk past it. And it makes me nuts. But anyway...) I was so relieved to see that it was only on the walls. Now I am pissed that I didn't grab the camera to snap a pic of the artwork. But at the time I knew time was against me and I needed to get it off the wall while the gettin' was good.

Just a small heart attack, and I quickly recovered. Sorry, little kid. Mission not accomplished. Better luck next time.