The Wyatt Saga ... Part II

Wyatt's antics have been ... less than desired lately. 

You can catch up on a recent day HERE. 

That ^ was last Friday. 

Monday was filled with purple kool-aid. 

All over my couch cushions and carpet.

Tuesday. Well, this way Tuesday:

Wyatt spent the morning in the kitchen with me, "helping" me chop all the vegetables for the chicken noodle soup and put it all together in the crockpot. 

Then we all sat and read and did some stickers. 

Then we headed upstairs. 

Emma was getting ready to take a shower, George was in his room, and I was changing Clara's diaper for her nap. I thought that Wyatt had gone with George and was playing. 

Boy was I wrong.

So v e r y wrong. 

I found this when I went downstairs, realizing he was NOT in George's room. 

This probably goes without saying but I think I was downstairs in .2 seconds. 

I had no words. 

Then I looked to the left. 

And to the right. 

No words. 

And yes, that's my couch cushion ... without its cover ... because the cover was in the wash from the day before when it was saturated with purple kool-aid. 

At this point I believe I picked Wyatt up and just said over and over, "No.No.No.No.No." 

It was my mantra as I walked him back upstairs and plopped him into his room. 

There may have been an initial, "SON!"

(As in my son, not the other son you're thinking!)

So my living room is painted, quite creatively, with coffee. 

You may be wondering how he achieved such streaks and dots ... 

he took a wipe and soaked it in the coffee and proceeded to whip it around to make all the fanciful decorations! 

And as my friend was helping me stay positive she said, "I bet it smells GREAT!" 

It did. Lol. 

Today, I can chuckle to myself. 

Although yesterday there were expletives running through my thoughts. 

::shameface::

And then embarrassment in realizing that if you don't know me very well and only see these little snippets, you may very well think I'm never watching him and never disciplining him. 

I don't know if it bugs me more that someone may think that or that I AM doing those things and these are frequent occurrences in our home!

They'll make hilarious stories to tell his future wife, that's for sure. 

And on a completely related note, I HATE FLAT PAINT.