This is a tale from a few weeks ago now, but one I felt
worth sharing lest The Olds should ever forget the trauma it caused. They have a memento for the time being, but
we’ll come to that.
My story starts with Mummy coming home late from work, so
while she and I had spent some time alone before nursery, with Daddy collecting
me, I’d been by myself with him too. For
the sake of no further arguments about when The Deed Was Done, that’s my little
secret.
Daddy and I were in the sitting room when Mummy came
in. “Sit down!” I ordered her. Amazingly, she sat! I’d pointed her to a seat on the other side
of the room from where she normally sits, so I guess you could say she could
see everything from a different perspective.
They were chatting away when Mummy suddenly gasped a mixture of horror
and disbelief as she noticed the floor beside where she normally sits. The noise was quickly drowned out by Daddy’s
noise, more anger on top of outrage, if you can imagine such a sound!
They’d spotted my artwork on the floor. I’m not talking about a piece of paper I’d
dropped, either. Purple crayon swirls,
big and bold, straight onto the oak. Some
of my more creative work, if I’m honest.
The volume increased considerably when they noticed that
I’d not felt restricted and had continued around all four sides of the coffee
table. Time to give them some space and
appreciate it, for art’s sake. I left
the room. I know now that they set about
scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees squabbling about who was to
blame. Like I said, I’m keeping schtum
about who wasn’t watching me while I did it.
I guess in the end, it was a good thing that crayon comes off wood, if
with a lot of work.
Daddy was the one who noticed I’d sneaked off and he was
the one who came looking for me. Cue
that awful anger/outrage noise again as he found me and caught me
red-handed. A red crayon this time, with
huge, beautiful circle formations (not “scribbles,” as Daddy called them!) as
high as I could reach in a 4ft long masterpiece on the wall in the corridor!
He was furious, (why was I so naughty?) I was furious,
(how dare he not appreciate my creation?) and we both went running in to Mummy
to tell her of our anguish. She laughed
at us both which didn’t help.
For information, red crayon does not come off magnolia
walls. Or at least, that’s what they
tell me. I wonder if secretly they
actually love it.
CB x
