My son is going to be my sneaky kid.  Stella can get into mischief, but there’s not a milligram of subterfuge in that little girl’s body.  Blaming her farts on her father – who is often not even home – or brother is about as devious and diabolical as she gets.  Felix?  I think we all need to hang on to our butts.

I get reports from school, in which he’s apparently a whiz at sneaking off of his nap mat and regularly manages to ease out of his classroom.  When he’s caught, I hear he smiles big and sort of does a little dance, waiting for the teacher or aide to turn her back again so he can shuffle towards freedom again.  He does the same thing at home.  And he’s so quiet about it.

It was just him and I at home the other day, as it was my telecommute day.  He’s been totally into art lately.  He’s also totally crappy at staying on the paper.  My white countertops have taken some major punishment.  I read all kinds of tips on the internet on how to remove wax from Formica.  I even tried mayonnaise (WTF?).  I had elbow-greased much of it off, but was pretty damn tired of crayon.  He wanted to color.  Luckily for him I remembered we had this huge roll of butcher paper in our laundry room.  Eureka!  I taped the paper down and turned him loose.

See?  Butcher paper = clean counter.  All is well, right?

See? Butcher paper = clean counter. All is well, right?

He colored for a long time.  Eventually, I went to another counter – still in the kitchen, mind you – to mix up some pizza crust dough.  I was not 6 feet from him.  In about 45 seconds, he managed to noiselessly climb down from his stool, get to the pantry, and begin coloring it a lovely shade of green.



Dammit.  I hollered “Felix!  NO!!”  He grinned at me and said “Hi!  How are you?”

Dammit again.

When I polled my mom friends on Facebook, I was instructed to buy a “Magic Eraser.”  I had heard of these things, but never needed them.

They are astonishing.  They are a marvel.  They are, in fact, magic.  I don’t know what  kind of alchemy is employed to manufacture these things – if ordinary sponges are infused with unicorn tears and alien blood, distilled by Walter White.  I want a case.  I want it in different formats, specifically a liquid or powder.  Imagine what this substance could do in commodes or washing machines?

For all of my friends and family who might be expecting one day?  This will be my gift to you.  No cute onesies.  No diapers.  You will receive a case of magic erasers.  And you’re welcome.


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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