So. I've had this ready to post for awhile, but you will see that things have been rather...hectic.
The other day I was all set to paint the porch railing. I thought.
I had the paint on the deck, and then realized that I needed to fill the cracks first. So I went downstairs to get the wood filler.
Let me set the stage.
I had moved an 8 foot ladder onto the porch after using it to put up a curtain rod (another loooong story, but finally it's up there). It was leaning against two chairs awaiting my taking it to the garage.
While I was inside getting the wood filler, Adam decided it would be cool to balance the paint can on the edge of the ladder.
I came out and decided to move the ladder before I did anything else. Not realizing the paint can was balanced on the other end, I grabbed one end and heard a crash.
You guessed it. A whole gallon of white paint all over our NOT white porch.
After I finished shrieking, I told Adam to stay put and to please, on pain of death, DO NOT let Belle off her tether. I ran inside and grabbed a painbrush and on impulse a couple of paper plates and managed to scootch the paint onto the plate and into the can, rescuing pretty much the whole shebang. But that still left a big, lovely, white painted area in the middle of the porch. So I raced inside for some water and rags. As I came down the stairs, here comes Adam into the house with Belle.
"I led her around the paint, mommy."
"She didn't get any paint on her feet, did she?"
"A little bit, mommy."
Luckily it didn't get into the house...just in the covered area, which I just removed the carpeting in. So now it has a couple of lovely prints as well. But at least it didn't get on any carpet.
And I have a good story to tell him when he gets older!
Other recent "kid incidents:".
Poured half a jug of plant food all over a side flower bed.
Trimmed the bushes in the front down to twigs.
Named all the worms we've dug up whilst expanding the garden.
Fooled around on the edge of bed and broke a collar bone.
Someone decided to poke holes around the edge of the milk jug, and I didn't notice and...yes...poured.
I'm sure if I thought hard enough I'd come up with more.
My brain is blocking my memories. It's a protective mechanism.