Painted feet, tickled pink

When quiet time was over yesterday, I climbed the stairs to find a daughter with green marker smeared on her face and a green right foot.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I painted my foot and then I tried to lick it off so you wouldn’t see it.”

Ayyyyyyeeeee!!!!

A little while later a friend called. I told her the story, which both delights and frightens me. She came by today with a book called “I Ain’t Gonna Paint No More!” It’s about a little boy who paints the walls, floor, ceilings and yes, his whole body. My friend, who works with little kids, rightly knew Maria would appreciate it.

The child insisted it be read to her a half-dozen times before bed and each time she cackled. Completely pee-her-pants laughed. Should I ever get Alzheimer’s, the sound of this laugh is among the only things I care to remember.

The book is funny and naughty and it has lots of rhymes, which my nena loves. Of course, someone wrote an Amazon review that ohmygod, it’s full of incorrect grammar. Whatever. My kid nearly tinkled her pants from the joy and a little bit of “ain’t” is worth it. Besides, around here “ain’t” ain’t wrong.