Yesterday Garrett disappeared for awhile and when I went to find him, he was in the bathroom, water was flicked all over the walls and floor and he was sobbing. He had gotten into my red nail polish, knew he wasn’t supposed to, tried to wipe it off on his bedroom wall, dripped it on his brand new carpet and then headed to the bathroom to rinse it off. But it wouldn’t wash off.
It was so sad to see this little boy trying so hard to remedy the situation but not having any luck at all. It was actually heartbreaking. Jeff just held him and loved him and then we both did damage control.
Which made me think about my other children and their personalities. Grace got into my nail polish when she was little too. She happily painted her nails and then wiped them all over my bathroom towels, counter and walls. She couldn’t have cared less. Emma did the same thing a few years later….wiped what she could off on my carpet and then trotted along to play hoping no one would ever notice the nail polish streaked on her hands and blaring up from the carpet.
All totally different responses to the same situation. Only one didn’t get in trouble. Should he have been punished? Perhaps, but I don’t think so. He punished himself the whole time he frantically tried to make things right.
It appears that I have a lesson to be learned here. I have two children left that have not tried their hand at nail polish art. NOTE TO SELF: throw out the nail polish. No matter how secure you think it is, it’s NOT. Mani’s and Pedi’s, here I come!