Since coming back from Summer vacation, the boy has been on a wild vandalism spree at home. It’s out of character for him and I realize it has to do with the fact that he misses his relatives as well as the 24-hours-a-day attention from busy daddy and me. Grandpa Bernie’s friend Ruth gave the boy a cool set of stamps and markers (with permanent ink, I might add), and he’s been putting them to good use.
Yesterday after work, busy daddy and I came home to find ink drawings and stains on the couch, on the floor, on the walls and even on the lazy pups. Obviously, giving markers to a four-and-a-half-year-old kid is an easy recipe for disaster, so it’s mostly our own fault. Still, although I was upset about the mess, I had a hard time telling the boy with a straight face that he should know better than to draw on the furniture, the walls and the pets.
As he was falling asleep, the boy asked me if I still loved him even though he was acting naughty. I said, Of course. It’s heartbreaking and totally manipulative of him. I’m seriously afraid of this kid.