Last Friday night Matt and I were out for an opening night premier at the theater. Lucas was with the Cox family... pretty much doing what he always does: bug their kids. From the sounds of things, the evening went fairly normally... and then there was bedtime.
Now, I should preface this by reminding everyone how difficult bedtime has become with our child. It's not tears, or refusal to go to bed... it's refusal to stay in bed. Every night there is at least one swat on the bottom and various threats to choke our child to sleep (I'm kidding about the last part... not that it hasn't crossed our minds). He's sneaky too... like a ninja, he will climb out of his crib without a sound, flip on his light switch and play with toys. Unless we're sitting by the door, watching for light to seep through the cracks... or the little sneak accidentally grabs a toy that makes truck sounds.... we have no idea (NO IDEA!) he's up and playing. Argh.
So on this particular Friday night.... Emily puts Lucas to bed and he snuggles in as if he were good to go. And I truly believe he probably would have gone to sleep... if he hadn't heard her go upstairs. I can just imagine his inner monologue: "What!? Did Emowee go upstairs? Does that mean I'm alone down here!? Now's my chance!!!"
That little stinker.
Needless to say, Lucas caused quite the ruckus. The child helped himself to my bag of nail polishes, which were left on table... and by helped himself I mean he poured nail polish on various items in our room. The carpet, chairs, his toes... he even gave himself a lil' taste, because there was a small smidge of polish on the corner of his mouth. Sigh...
Our roommate Levi found the carnage and I can only imagine Emily's shock when she came down to survey the damage. I suppose it was better she found it, rather than me... because I would probably have come unglued. Lucas has been into everything lately... EVERYTHING!... and I find myself feeling less patient these days. I can't let the child out of my sight for thirty seconds.
But I digress...
The irony is that before heading out the door that evening, I told myself I needed to put that bag away... because Lucas can't keep his curious fingers out of anything. But I forgot. Dangit. Isn't that life. Most of the incidents we've run across... no... all of the incidents are my fault. My failure to plan ahead and envision the carnage my child is capable of.
So as you can see below... it looks like someone was murdered in our room. We're unsure how to remove the nail polish at this point. It's dried and has seeped all the way down to the padding. We're clipping pieces out of the carpet that will come out, but even then... that's not going to get the job done.