I’m going to start searching my toddler like she is prisoner of Arkham Asylum (my husband will take this as my permission to start dressing up like Batman).

My husband wishes he was the bat.

Yesterday she produced, not one but two crayons from the front of her diaper. This is on top of the day before when I caught her trying to stuff her baby sister’s onesie down the back with crayons and toys like she was a tiny piñata. The more I think about it, in the past couple of days she has stuffed crayons on the inside of a water jug, inside the couch cushions, inside her tool box, inside the saddle of her stuffed horse, down the back of MY pants (apparently it is now referred to as a crayon slot and not a coin slot in this house), down the front of my shirt, under the chair, under the rug, and also in her crayon box (woo hoo).

We only allow her to have the Crayola washable versions which although they mostly come out with just water, her Ikea table is so entrenched with stains from the blue ones that it looks like she possibly strapped a Smurf on there and went a little Dexter Morgan on it.  I’m sure it was an evil Smurf that totally had it coming though. We’ve tried to get her to only have crayons on her little table or the big table (hell ANY table would be great) but she listens about as well as I do and washable crayons are just not my hill to die on at this point. We just keep reminding ourselves that one day she’ll start to listen to us (albeit it may be once she has kids of her own).