Washable doesn't *always* mean washable

Jude so kindly left out a nice green marker today. While we were *trying* to do school, Zane so kindly colored on my wall. Grrrrr.....

After much scrubbing with my every trusty vinegar/water combo and not having much luck, I realized we needed to pull out the big guns. I pulled from my arsenal the Magic Eraser. Not so magic after all...

All that scrubbing, and it got reduced to this: (It's much darker than it appears)

Now if you are laughing, either one of two things are happening. 1. Your children aren't old enough to pull this kind of stunt. 2. Your children are too old to pull this kind of stunt.

"So, Amy, what was Zane doing while you were scrubbing with your toxic not-so-Magic scrubby? Cowering in the corner, feeling much remorse for his bad deed???"

Oh, not so, my friend. He was using the newly moved-so-Mommy-could -vacuum-up-all-the-stuff-on-the-floor chairs to play in the sink FULL of dishes. He's learned to pose for the camera too, by the way. I know that's hard to tell by this photo.

*sigh*

I'm going to miss these days, you know. That's what they tell me.

And any suggestions for what to do with my wall is much appreciated. Moving the mirror down isn't an option. It might bonk a kid on the head and cause damage... Okay, tempting, but still not an option.

There is progress on the house, though. I can't post pics of the kitchen yet, though. David Crowder and I are about to go tackle that now...

There's a ton of laundry on the sofa to be folded, but at least the laundry is moving through the proper channels. And you *can* dig through the pile for clean underwear if the need arises.

Hope your day was green marker free. :)